THE VICTORIA CROSS. EARS ago our gracious sovereign saw fit to institute a new decoration, to be bestowed upon those of her soldiers or sailors who should distinguish themselves by any remarkable act of bravery or daring in the presence of the enemy. Since that time nearly three hundred of these decorations have been awarded to soldiers and sailors of all ranks, from the colonel and commander to the common sailor or private soldier; and it is considered among the highest honours that can be gained in the army or navy to be able to wear upon the breast the plain-looking Victoria Cross. And yet, after all, what is the value of it? It is merely a plain, small gun-metal cross, of no great value in itself. True, there is a small money pension❘ attached to the winning of the Victoria Cross; but what is most valued is the honour of wearing a decoration given by a beloved sovereign in recognition of meritorious conduct. What volumes are contained in those two words, "For Valour," inscribed on the cross! For length of service and good conduct, or merely for presence in a campaign, a medal may be earned; but not so the Victoria Cross. The man who would wear this must make up his mind to win it by some signal act of valour or deed of daring; and even then he may not succeed; for the opportunity of winning it may never present itself. It is not thus with the prize that is offered to every soldier of Jesus Christ-the crown of life, promised to all those who fight manfully and valiantly the good fight of faith. This is a prize that may be obtained the opportunity never occurred to them to win it. We have said that no Christian soldier need despair of being able to win the crown of life, because it is freely offered to all; so we would now say that no soldier of the cross can excuse himself by saying that he has never had the opportunity of fighting against evil. If we are truly Christians we have a life-time of battles to fight, each one of which would be too hard for us if we were not aided by God's Holy Spirit, who helps our infirmities. We must fight against evil in every form, against temptations from the evil one, and temptations that spring from our own corrupt natures, against our own sins and against the sins of others. We must. not be contented with acting always on the defensive, always being prepared to make a stand against the attacks of the enemy. There is a great difference between the warfare carried on by man against man, or nation against nation, and that in which the Christian soldier is engaged. The wars of the world are the outcomings of lust and covetousness. Men desire more than they have, and fight and war that they may obtain what they desire; and so out of covetousness and envy come strife and all the horrors of war. How different the Christian warfare ! "We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." And the fightings of the Christian, unlike those of the worldling, are productive of good, and are the means of hastening that time when all the world shall be at peace, when men "shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks;" when "nation shall not lift up against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." So also there is a difference between the soldiers. employed. The man who wins and wears the Victoria. Cross is probably a physically strong man-he must be a physically bold one, or it would not be awarded him; while some of the strongest and best of Christian warriors have been but feeble and timid men. Of themselves quite incapable of doing any great work, but filled with the Holy Spirit, they have been able to work marvels in pulling down the strongholds of Satan, and in hastening on the coming of Christ's kingdom. The Victoria Cross. by every soldier in the great Christian army; not by one who has been exceptionally situated or remarkably valiant, but by every one who has "done what he could" in the service of his Saviour. Let us look for a few moments at the inducements there are held out to the Christian to fight bravely and constantly against the enemies of the Lord. There is the promised prize; this is no mere decoration of little value, to be worn for a few short years at most, and then to be laid aside. It is a "crown of life," of "righteousness," of "glory," it is "an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." "" It is to be admitted into the society of the spirits of just men made perfect, of the holy angels of God, of Christ our Saviour, of our Father in heaven. For every soldier in the British army who gains the Victoria Cross, there are thousands who never possess it; not that there is any lack of bravery on their part, nor want of ambition to secure it, but simply because sword Let us then take courage; putting on the whole armour of God, always remembering to seek His help, who alone is able to keep us from falling; and then when the time comes for us to lay down the sword, we shall be enabled joyfully to exclaim, "Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but to all them that love His appearing." T WHAT OF THAT? IRED? Well, what of that? Didst fancy life was spent on beds of ease, Come, rouse thee! work while it is called day! Lonely? And what of that? Some must be lonely: 'tis not given to all Dark? Well, what of that? Work on! TOP a moment. You shall not be kept long. Time is too precious to be wasted. I ought to value it; you ought to value it; we all ought to value it; but do we? What project have you in hand? Are you working, or remaining idle? going on, or standing still? doing good, or doing evil? Whatever it may be,-ploughing or sowing, putting up or pulling down, lending or borrowing, buying or building, the question I wish to ask is this, Do you count the cost? Hardly could I ask a more serious question, a more important question, or a more necessary question. Answer it openly and honestly. Attend to this inquiry, and all may be right; neglect it, and all may be wrong. Some people count differently to others; David counted God's thoughts towards him to exceed the sands, and his own iniquities to outnumber the hairs of his head. Many reckon their afflictions to be overwhelming, but Paul reckoned his not worthy to be compared with the glory to be revealed. Most of us count the good things of the world as everything, but he counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus. There is a right way and a wrong way; whichever you are taking, count the cost. God's favour is cheap at any price, but the cheapest sin will be found in the end to be far too dear. Again I say, Do you count the cost? Do you reckon the price you have to pay? A man took a journey by coach in great haste; rode outside; went slow enough up the hill; rather too fast down. He urged the coachman to hurry on, but did not count the cost. The coachman should have known better. Smack went the whip, on sprung the horses, round went the wheels, and over went the coach at the bottom of a hill, flinging passengers and driver into a gravel-pit, one with a broken arm, and the other with a broken leg. Foolish men! They ought to have counted the cost. An aeronaut went up in a balloon-dangerous enough to do that--but he would come down in a parachute; this was still more dangerous. Thoughtless man! He had never counted the cost. He ascended without accident, but he did not descend without one. No! He was too heavy for the parachute; down they came together, over and over. People said he was dead before he reached the ground; but certainly he was dead enough soon after he did reach the ground. A miner went down a coal-pit, but he never came up again alive. How was that? say you. Did the rope break? Did he tumble out of the skip? or did anything fall on his head from the top? No! none of these things occurred. There was fire-damp in the pit, and he knew it; but he was thoughtless, wilful, and obstinate, for he would not be persuaded to count the cost. The light of his lantern set the fire-damp in a blaze. The miner was working at one end of the pit, but his scorched body was found almost at the other. Whether you travel by coach, or by any other conveyance; whether you go up high in the air, or down deep into the ground, use the prudence that God has given you, and in every case count the cost. Make no exception to this general rule, but ask the question in every project you undertake, hoping or fearing, suffering or enjoying. Some fast through poverty, and sigh for table crumbs! How is it with you? Are you sitting down to a well-spread board, banqueting on dainty morsels, and dressing yourself in gay attire? Have a care! The rich man in the parable did this before you; but he counted not the cost. He never dreamed that it would harden his heart. He never suspected it would make him selfish. What a price did he pay for his feastings! Be on your guard; venison and turtle must be paid for-sparkling wine that moveth itself aright has a price. Count, then, the cost of them. Let them not lure you from God, and pay not for them more than they are worth. Are you building a house, digging a well, and fencing in fields? If so, proceed with discretion. Sit down first and count the cost; or haply, when you have laid the foundation of your dwelling, you may be mocked with the words, "This man began to build, and was not able to finish." Did you never hear of a man being so foolish as to build his house on the sand? He never counted the cost. No wonder that, when the storm raved, his habitation came tumbling down about his ears. Are you a wise master-builder? Are you building for the sunshine or the shower? for the summer or the winter? for time or eternity? for earth or for heaven? Have you set your heart on riches? Count the cost, for riches may be bought too dear. On power? Count the cost, for you may become weak before you are aware. On fame? Count the cost, for the bubble may burst suddenly. Why, a fit of the tooth-ache, the head-ache, or the heart-ache, renders the rich poor, the strong weak, and the celebrated unmindful of his popularity. Think of this, and think of the fading nature of earthly things. A certain sage was called the weeping philosopher. He saw nothing in the world to laugh at, but much to make him mourn. Sad habit, the habit of repining! Oh for a cheerful spirit, a thankful spirit, a rejoicing spirit! for this is the sunshine of the heart. Another, whom many esteem wise, was called the laughing philosopher. He saw nothing in the world worth a tear, but everything to provoke his mirth. Sad affliction, the affliction of a light and trifling spirit! Will laughing at water prevent it drowning you? or jesting at fire hinder it from burning you? You know it will not. Are you melancholy, unthankful, and repining? Count the cost. Are you light, trifling, and foolish? Count the cost. Let philosophers laugh or weep; be thankful for God's gifts, and desirous of His glory. Are you leading or following? teaching or learning? In either case you have enough to do. You cannot afford to cast aside your Bible, to neglect prayer, to mis-spend the Sabbath, or to absent yourself from the house of God. There is a sunbeam over your head, if your are heavenly-minded, and charitable, and compassionate, and kind; and there is a dark cloud above you, if you are worldly, and selfish, and hard-hearted, and cruel. See to these things, see to them quickly, see to them now, and count the cost of putting the burden of to day's duties on the back of to-morrow. can they inherit the kingdom of heaven. Others are depending on the unblemished moral character they bear. They are good citizens. They are kind and generous friends. They are well-disposed neighbours. All this will go so far, they think, and Christ's merits will make up the difference. Vain notion! By no such piece of patchwork as this is man to be saved. A woman called, one day, on Dr. Chalmers in great distress of mind. "Oh, Doctor!" said she, "what must I do to get peace?" Do," replied he, "nothing." "Nothing?" replied the disappointed inquirer, "nothing? Is that all the comfort you have for me?" "Yes, that is all; you have nothing to do, but you have something to take. It's all done. Christ has done it. He has bought pardon and peace for you, and you have got to take them." "I see it, I see it," replied the woman joyfully, and left in peace. Do you see it? There is no mystery about it. It is a simple, though great and wondrous redemptive scheme. Jesus, the eternal Son of God, became your surety. He made a mighty stoop. He left heaven. He clothed Himself in robes of clay, and came to earth. He stood in your room and stead. He obeyed the whole law for you. He suffered for you an ignominious death, and bare the penalty your sins deserved. He wrought out for you a perfect righteousness. And now from His throne in glory He says to you, "Believe on Me as your Saviour; look upon God as your reconciled Father through Me; ask of Him to accept of you because of My obedience and death: thus seek to be one with Me; regard Me as your salvation; cast your. self for eternity on Me: do this, and live for ever." Reader! Look away from yourself in the great matter of acceptance with God. You have nothing to do but to trust. Faith in Jesus Christ to save is the way to heaven. An anxious inquirer could not get peace. The convictions of sin were deep and clear. She assented to all the doctrines of grace. She sought earnestly to attain salvation. But she could get no comfort for a time. At length she came to a friend, and told him she had made a new discovery. On being asked what it was she had found out, she replied that the way of salvation all seemed to her now perfectly plain-that the darkness was gone, and that she saw now what she never saw before. On the question being put to her what she saw now, she said, "Don't you think the reason why we do not get out of darkness sooner is that we don't believe? As you were reading a hymn last night, I saw the whole way of salvation perfectly plain, and wondered that I had never seen it before. I saw that I had nothing whatever to do but to trust in Christ. The verses which brought me to peace were these : 66 My soul obeys the almighty call, I would believe Thy promise, Lord, "A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On Thy kind arms I fall; Be Thou my strength and righteousness, My Jesus and my all!" THE CRUSHED SHIP. OME years ago an emigrant ship left England, having on board nearly four hundred and fifty passengers. For ten days they had fine weather and light winds, when a furious gale sprung up from the south and drove them northward. After this gale very had lasted for a week, the wind changed to the north, and the weather became very cold. One dark night, the man whose duty it was to look ahead of the ship, to see if there was anything in the way, saw something large and white floating just before them. He at first thought it was a ship, and sung out as loud as he could, "Ship ahead! Starboard! hard a starboard!" which meant that the man at the helm must turn the ship to the left, to prevent striking the object in the way. At these words the second mate, who had charge of the vessel at the time, looked out on the dark waters, and at once cried out: "It's no ship. It's an iceberg! All hands wear ship!" The sailors sprang to their posts; the captain and other officers, and those of the crew who had been sleeping below rushed to the deck, startled by the noise, and all helped by skilful management of the sail to "wear," or turn the ship away from the fearful mountain of ice before them. They were none too soon, for they barely cleared the ice, which, had they struck, would have broken the ship to pieces. They remained in this position until morning, fearing to move in the darkness lest they should strike the ice. When daylight came they found themselves surrounded by fields of ice, having several icebergs on them, looking like mountains on a plain. There was only one way to escape, and that was by a natural channel leading to the north-east; and, fearful to tell, this passage was gradually closing up. But with all sail set, and a fair wind, they managed at length to get through, and they reached the open sea only a few moments before the ice came together and the channel was closed. In the meantime there was, about three miles to the westward, another ship in a far more dangerous position, for she was completely sur rounded by ice, and it was rapidly closing in upon her. Nearer and nearer it came. There was no way of escape for this as for the other ship. The poor creatures on board fired guns and hoisted signals of distress, but alas! none could help them. Those in the other vessel had as much as they could do to save themselves. So the ice, like a great giant, moved nearer to them with its huge arms, until at last it closed up all around the ship and broke it in pieces as easily as a child would crush an egg-shell. The stout timbers were broken, the tall masts tottered and fell, and in a few minutes all was over. Not one of those on board was saved. Prepared or unprepared, they went to meet their God. Life is a great ocean. Temptations are its icebergs. If They close around us and threaten to destroy. we look to God for help He will make a way of escape, and give us the Holy Spirit to guide us in the safe path to heaven. God is the refuge of His saints AND OTHER SKETCHES. HE well-known Richard Cecil, when infidel, but in later life was as unceasing in his efforts to win souls for the Lord Jesus as he had before laboured to propagate his infidel opinions. "When about twenty years old," he says, "the very notion of Jesus Christ or of redemption repelled me. I could not endure a system so degrading. I thought there might possibly be a Supreme Being; and if there were such a Being, He might hear me when I prayed. To worship the Supreme Being seemed somewhat dignified. There was something grand and elevating in the idea. But the whole scheme of redemption appeared mean and degrading and dishonourable to man. The New Testament, in its sentiments and institutions, repelled me, and seemed | impossible to be believed as a impossible to be believed as a religion suitable to man." About this period, when lying in bed one night |