THE FARMER'S SON.

N the low-roofed turf cottage of a Scottish farmer, the only chimney of which was a barrel protruding through the ridge, a boy first saw the light, who was destined by his father to till the farm which had yielded oats and potatoes for two centuries under the hands of his thrifty ancestors. The carts and ploughs were of the rudest kind, such as might have been used immediately after the curse was pronounced on the earth for man's sin, and he forced to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. Hard work supplied, as far as possible, the place of science in farming. Without regard to symmetry or order, one strip of land was devoted to oats, an irregular patch to potatoes, and then a ragged piece to cabbages; these surrounded by and interspersed with heaps of rubbish. In the rear of all this, and around the farm, stretched vast unbroken moors, the picture of desolation. And this was the place to which an ambitious boy was to be bound for life, because his forefathers had been so before him. He was to drag a cart without wheels, and a basket on rollers home from the harvest field, with puny, half-starved oxen. Young Kenneth rebelled against his lot, till he disgraced himself as a child of the covenant, " and brought down the censure of the minister on him, as a son that would bring the gray hairs of his father with sorrow to the grave.

He was for awhile forced to walk behind the old plough, that only scratched the surface of the earth; but often, after a whole morning's toil, it was found that he had been all the time retracing the first furrow. He was given over as incompetent for a ploughboy, and regarded but one step higher than "a fule."

Next the gude farmer, " sorely ashamed of his shiftless lad afore his industrious neighbours," set him to watching the sheep, saying that "ony fule wi a sheep's brains in his head could keep the gentle creatures from rolling over the bank into the burn." But even here young Kenneth proved unfaithful. At the close of the first day several of the sheep were found with broken limbs and necks at the bottom of the burn, and the rest rioting in the winter's grain, while the reckless boy was in the bed of a deep ravine, constructing water-mills and pumps cut of hemlock twigs, with which to raise the water from some puddle he had extemporized for the experiment. At other times he would be missing altogether, and the sheep would have their own way while he lay at full length in the sand near a meal mill a mile off, watching the play of the wheel in the water.

At length the worthy old farmer declared "he could mak' nathing at a' o' the laddie; that although he seemed as fu' witted as ony ither lad wi' the book and the thought, still when it come to the practical, he was just an idiot." Kenneth's mother, however,

could not give up her darling for lost, and insisted that there was "that within him that wad mak' a man yet."

When at last he rose in unkirklike rebellion against parental authority, and declared he would do anything they bid him abroad in the world, but that he would not be a farmer, the mortified father took him to the neighbouring town and apprenticed him to a cabinet-maker, who very soon grew sick of his bargain. The boy spoiled everything he attempted, and at last got the nick-name of "Spull the wood" (spoil the wood), and made as sad havoc among the tools and materials as he did among the sheep and the grain.

He

But his day came at last; a ship had come in needing some little repairs which any man who could handle a hammer could make. So our poor workman was despatched on the business. Once on board he spied a compass, the first he had ever seen. leaned over it in rapt delight for hours, and suffered the repairs to take care of themselves. He forgot what he had been sent for, and returned home without his tools, and with his head full of compasses. Provoked with his heedlessness, the honest cabinetmaker tried to throw him back as a bad bargain on his father's hands; but the old man was too shrewd for him; he would not take the burden till forced to do so by the expiration of the time mentioned in the indentures. But their abuse of him and their quarrels about him were scarcely heard by Kenneth; he thought only of ships' compasses, and mechanics in general, and he whistled at the advice of friends and the scorn of foes.

As soon as his apprenticeship was over he left the region where he was born, and for years he was heard of only perchance by some fellow-townsmen meeting him in great poverty. By-and-by the world heard that a "certain ingenious Scotchman, a very scientific man, had invented a compass which was to mark a new era in navigation." It was on every tongue. Prince William Henry, afterward William IV., was at the time commanding a man-ofwar, and he tried the young Scotchman's compass. He was charmed with it; and the lad who trod the clay floor of the poor thatched cottage with the barrel chimney, was appointed "compass maker to his majesty," and Catherine, Czarina of Russia, heard of the wonderful inventor, and felt that she must have some of the results of his genius, and she sent him an order for a philosophical apparatus for a college being erected in St. Petersburg. He was ready for the royal order and equal to its fulfilment. Money began to pour in upon him, and he became master of a fine house, and was honoured and respected by the very men who, when boys, used to call him "Spull the wood" and "mak' na bread," in scorn. All at once his old father found out that " Kenny had iver been a wonderfu' lad; and although he did let a few worthless sheep brak' their necks by falling o'er the edge of the ravine, after their devouring the winter's corn, wha could expect a gen'us to be looking after a poor shepherd's work?" And the minister too

remembered how he used to balance one pin on another, and whittle out wee anchors during the last half of the two hours' sermon. He forgot, however, how he used to threaten to inform upon him at home, or report him to the elders for " a maist unsanctified lad;" and now declared that "although his conduct was certainly disorderly for a lad fortunate enough to be born in the kirk o' Scotland, he had na doubt it was the genius cropping out of him, instead of total depravity, as he then thought." His native town grew proud of him, and every man in it remembered some word or act worth repeating of the boy who they once declared "wad never earn a red herring.

There was one who had always smiled on his water-wheels, and excused his carelessness when the dead sheep were found; one who had called him tenderly her "ain dear bonnie laddie," and who would never suffer any one to call him a fool unrebuked. That was his mother. He was always a hero and a genius in her loving eyes, and although she was rejoiced, she would never admit that she was surprised at his good fortune.

Now, had the honest farmer discerned the boy's talents, he might have saved himself all the trouble and mortification he had in his unsuccessful efforts to convert him into a ploughman or a shepherd; and he might have saved him years of toil and poverty, during which he was hourly stung by the mean sneers and the sarcasms of those who were afterwards proud to boast that they knew him when a boy. Had Kenneth's courage or his health failed him before he accomplished anything, the world would have been robbed of a great blessing in the compass which would have died in his brain.

Young Kenneth's case illustrates the wrong often done by parents to their children. The idea that you can make just what you please of a boy is a mistaken one. A lad who possesses talents for trade will not be likely to be skilful at the plough, nor yet will the one whom God has designed for a farmer guide safely a ship. How many boys are dragged by force through school, and the irksome studies which follow, to a profession, when, perhaps, they had quickness and taste for some mechanical or mercantile pursuit, in which they could have proved a blessing to the world. Parents should study the natural preferences of their children in these matters, and be guided by them in the selection of a suitable business or profession.

THE MOTHER OF JOHN ANGELL JAMES.-To her prayers Mr. James, in his after-life, thus gratefully refers: "I remember my mother taking me into her chamber, and pouring her fervent and pious breathings over my infant head. And who can tell how much of all that follows in my history is to be traced to a mother's prayers?"

"HE CARETH FOR YOU."

EAR the time of the American revolutionary war, there lived in a town of Connecticut a pious old couple, by the name of Jones. They were infirm and very poor. Their children were all dead or gone, and there was no one to take care of them or assist them but now and then a neighbour. Their little house was on a by-road, somewhat remote and hid from view by high knolls and enormous grey rocks.

In the depth of winter there came a very large and severe snowstorm. The high wind blew the snow about furiously, and the front of old Mrs. Jones' cottage was buried by it almost completely out of sight.

And there stayed those aged people, with only a very little wood to keep them warm, and with only a scanty supply of food. At length they had eaten up their last mouthful. Then the storm cleared away. But it was very cold, the roads were blocked up by the snow, and the farmers had plenty to do in looking to their cattle and digging paths. Who would first think of the poor old couple?

As old Mrs. Jones opened the outside door to try to look out, she found the snow bank against it higher than the top. Then she took her broom, and pushing it up, made a hole through the top of the bank. She had scarcely drawn back the broom, when in fled a fine large partridge.

The aged couple had a hot chase around the room to catch their strange visitor; but it was not long before it was in the pot over the fire. And a good meal had those hungry ones from that fine bird that God had sent them; for God, as we see, was the first to think of them, and the first to send them help.

No doubt the old woman would gratefully remember this incident all her days, and at times would lay aside her spinning-wheel and take up the large Bible, which lay always near, and read about God's feeding Elijah in old times by means of the ravens.

"O fear the Lord, ye His saints: for there is no want to them that fear Him. The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." (Ps. xxxiv. 9, 10).

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WIDOW HARVEY'S DAUGHTER.

N my early days I resided at Clifton, and whilst there I became acquainted with a young woman in whom I became much interested.

Susan Harvey was the only child of a widow who kept a little fancy bread and biscuit shop; and it was evident that the mother's heart was wrapped up in her girl: for her alone she seemed to live and toil. She would talk to her customers of the beauty and

goodness of Susan, and also boast of the fine education she was giving her; "For," said she, "I am resolved to make a lady of her." So Susan was taught to play the piano instead of helping her mother in the shop; and, in place of being obliged to make and to mend her clothes, she employed herself on some fine piece of crochet work or embroidery, which was constantly exhibited by the proud mother. She was always very smartly dressed. She seldom came into the shop, and when she did so, it was rather to laugh and to talk with chance visitors than to be useful. Yet she was kind-hearted and affectionate, and her clear, fresh, young face, quite unclouded by care or thought, and her merry ringing laugh could not fail to strike one joyously.

As time rolled on, I felt strangely drawn towards this young creature; and often when I called I would step into the parlour, and have a little chat with her. I saw that the girl was not strong, and that the foolish vanity of an over-indulgent mother, and the useless, artificial education of the girl was driving all religious feeling from her mind. I knew that Susan usually went to church; but it was evidently more because others did so, and to show off her fine clothes, than from any desire to join heartily in prayer and praise to God. Many a time have I gone in with the full intention of trying to awake Susan to her state, and I have, after some hesitation and diffidence, spoken a few serious words. But an evasive answer or a light laugh was the only result.

I had been told that it was Susan's practice to join with other young shop girls in going excursions on the river on Sunday afternoon, thinking that she had done her duty by going to church in the morning. In these excursions Susan and her companions were joined by young men of their acquaintance, and it was often ten o'clock on the Sabbath night before they all reached their respective homes.

Having heard that Susan was about to join, on the next Sunday, in one of these excursions, I stepped in one Saturday night to endeavour to persuade her not to go. In vain I urged her to give up the excursion; in vain I told her, in plain words, that it was a desecration of God's holy day to spend it in that manner. She was struck indeed with my earnestness, and for the moment almost seemed as if she would give up going. Then again she altered her resolution, and said she must go; her companions would laugh at her and call her a methodist if she did not. She ended by saying, "I must go to-morrow; but you must not be angry with me. will promise to go no more Sunday excursions. Next Sunday evening I will go with you to church, and I will try and think more about God and heaven." I left a little more hopeful. I had gained her promise—and this was something-that she would try and lead a different life. But alas! that next Sunday came not for poor Susan on earth.

I

I had just fallen asleep the next night, when I was roused by a