from which the blood flowed in streams; but not so with his better half. When she saw their mutual foe thus attempt to take possession of their house, she determined to finish the battle, and, notwithstanding the severity of her wounds, her dress almost entirely torn from her person, and covered with blood, she deliberately took the gun, and shaking some powder from the barrel into the pan, placed the muzzle between one of the openings which the logs of the house afforded, and fired with steady and deadly aim. The tiger was killed. When subsequently measured, it was found to be twelve feet from the tip of its tail to its nose. During all the time the fight was progressing no one was within hearing. Mr. Williams's nearest neighbour lives three miles off. However, as Mrs. Williams was washing the blood from her person, a neighbour came riding by, and, alarmed at her appearance, inquired the cause. The old lady, unable from the loss of blood to speak, pointed to the dead body of the tiger. The escape of Mr. and Mrs. Williams is indeed wonderful, and they are now recovering gradually from their wounds. Mr. Williams jokes about the tiger fight, and intimates that the old lady was most enraged when the "varmint" took possession of his bed and house.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE GOSPEL?"

A very old woman, on the coast of Africa, came regularly to hear the missionary preach, and listened with great attention. Now if people have not learned when they are young, it is difficult to teach them when they are old. So the missionary tried to speak very simply, that all might understand. This poor woman seemed to be made very happy by hearing about Christ. She became a new creature. She left off worshipping idols, and served her Saviour with her whole heart.

One day the missionary was catechising her, and he said, “Do you understand the Gospel? ”

Tears rolled down her cheek, as she lifted up her hand,

and said, "O, my minister, my head think, my tongue heavy, but," pressing her hand upon her bosom, "my heart feels. Me poor Guinea woman, minister: me no able to speak good; but what you say comes in here, (pointing to her ears,) and strikes me there, (pointing to her heart.) Understand you, minister!-How could all this change take place in our hearts, and conduct, and families, if we did not understand you ?" "Well," said the missionary, "what think you of Christ. "O massa, me love Jesus. He died for me. Me have nothing to think about but Jesus." Me give myself forever to Jesus.

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Did not this African understand? Aye, and though she said her tongue was heavy," I think it spoke very well; perhaps more to the purpose than the tongue of some dear little girls and boys that I know could speak, who have learned in their Sunday school, and at their Bible class, far more than ever the poor African woman knew. They have learned more about the Lord Jesus, but do they understand so well? The only proof of understanding the Gospel is having the heart and conduct changed by it. Who of my little readers understands the Gospel?

London Missionary Repository.

WORTH OF THE SOUL.

WHAT tumult of exultation would the promised sovereignty of a world-aye, even a small portion of it-excite in the human heart? How would the purpled robe, the jewelled diadem, and the exalted throne, crowd in thick array upon the fancy, as it gazed upon the glittering phantom? How would the heart expand to meet the love and reverence of subject millions? With what intense energy would every passion spring to the enjoyment of its object? With what ardour to accommodate itself to its exalted position? Yet this world, with all the pomp and power attendant on its possession-this world, whose possession, even in prospect, would absorb every faculty of our nature,

is declared by our Saviour to be far less in value than a single soul. To one accustomed to estimate everything by a worldly standard, this may appear, at first, a startling proposition. Yet, even such a one cannot withhold his assent, when he considers the exalted quality of the soul, the eternity of existence to which it is destined, and the surprising proofs of the estimate at which it is held by higher intellects than ours. As God pervades the universe, directing and controlling its complicated operations, so the human soul, in a far lower sphere, it is true, and with far inferior, yet similar powers, rules with absolute dominion the tabernacle of clay in which he dwells. Is God infinitely superior to the universe of matter which he governs? In like manner, though not in equal degree, is the soul of man superior to the frame which it inhabits, and to the earth from which that frame was formed. The soul also contains within itself a principle of immortality, which adds immeasurably to its value. Everything else in our world is subject to decay. The fairest flower must wither -the tallest oak of the forest must waste away and fall: Man's own body must sink into the grave, and return to its kindred dust. The proudest palace his hands have builded must crumble and sink into ruins; the fame which we vainly call immortal must be forgotten. The earth itself must cease its revolutions, and perish in the final conflagration. But the soul-more noble, more excellent than them all—shall never die; ignorant of decay, it shall live on throughout the endless ages of eternity. Why is it that the hosts of heaven continue to lend an attentive eye towards this far and distant planet! Is it to mark with what precise exactness it accomplishes its days, and months, and years? Is it to observe the hue of universal death which has gathered upon its aspect, and deformed its beauties? No! it is an object of far greater interest which attracts their eager gaze. It is that single soul; more valuable in itself than all earth possesses of beauty and grandeur, which causes them to stoop from their exalted thrones in fixed attention. That soul repents, it casts its load of unshared misery, the intolerable burden of sin, at

the foot of the cross; it receives the promised rest, and is filled with the peace and love of God. Immediately there is joy in the celestial courts. A new emotion of delight pervades the bosoms of the heavenly hosts, from the lowest scale of the angelic being to Gabriel who standeth in the presence of God. What then must be the value of that soul, whose progress can attract the scrutiny of angelswhose safety can create a jubilee in heaven!

O that all, and especially the youth of our land, would think of this, and consider the worth of that immortal soul, entrusted to their care, which must live on, and ever live on, through the long ages of eternity. O that they would consider, and endeavour to lay up their treasures in heaven, to seek a house eternal in the skies, whose builder and founder is God. And if these few scattering thoughts shall in any measure add to the probability of one single soul doing so, the object, the ambition of the writer will be fully realized, and her desire to do good increased.Miss A. E. Sidgeworth.

THE PRICELESS DIAMOND.

THERE is no gem or jewel, or richest pearl in all the universe, of such priceless value as the soul. Worlds could not buy it-worlds could not redeem it, if once lost. Such a priceless diamond you carry about with you every day in your bosom, amid the dangers of earth, and where numerous and invisible foes are seeking to rob you of it-Do not delay to place it in the hands of the Almighty Saviour, who only can preserve and keep it safely till the final day. Think, O think, how much is at stake,-even your own soul, your own precious soul.

Suppose this world were a globe of gold, and each star in yonder firmament a jewel of the first order, and the moon a diamond, and the sun literally a crown of allcreated glory; one soul, in value, would outweigh them all. Here is a man standing on board of a vessel at sea, holding his hand over the side of the vessel; he is sporting with a jewel worth a hundred thousand dollars, and which, too, is all his fortune. Playing with his jewel, he throws it up and catches it. A friend, noticing the brilliancy of the jewel, warns him of the danger of losing it, and tells him that if it slips through his fingers it goes down to the bottom of the deep, and can be recovered no more. "O there is no danger; I have

been doing this a long time, and you see I have not lost it yet." Again he throws it up, and-it is gone; past recovery, gone! O, when the man finds that his jewel is indeed lost, and by his own folly lost, who can describe his agony, as he exclaims, I have lost my jewel, my fortune, my all!" O sinner, hear me ! casketed in your bosom you have a jewel of infinitely greater value: in idling away your precious time, you are in danger of losing that pearl of price unknown, in danger of being lost for ever.

A MOTHER'S GIFT.

Remember, love, who gave thee this,
When other days shall come;
When she who had thy earliest kiss,
Sleeps in her narrow home:
Remember, 'twas a mother gave
The gift of one she'd die to save.

That mother sought a pledge of love,
The holiest, for her son;
And from the gifts of God above,
She chose a goodly one:

She chose for her beloved boy,

The source of light and life, and joy.

And bade him keep the gift, that when
The parting hour should come,

They might have hope to meet again,
In an eternal home:

She said his faith in it would be,
Sweet incense to her memory.

And should the scoffer in his pride,
Laugh that fond faith to scorn,
And bid him cast the pledge aside,
Which he from youth had borne;
She bade him pause, and ask his breast,
If he, or she, had loved him best.
A parent's blessing on her son
Goes with this lovely thing;
The love that would retain the one,
Must to the other cling;

Remember, 'tis no idle toy,

A mother's gift, remember, boy.

Youth's Instructor, 1853.