NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.

HIS extraordinary man was born at Corsica in the year 1769. Although signs of genius were noticed in him when a boy, yet none could have anticipated that the quiet and studious youth was afterwards to play so remarkable a part on the stage of life. Having chosen the military profession, he remained for some years in the ranks of the army, noticed only as an attentive and intelligent officer. The great outburst of the first French Revolution, however, soon took place, and circumstances arose which called into action his wonderful powers. Toulon witnessed the first marked display of his great military talents.

Stepping from one post to another, he found himself ere long, from being an obscure officer, appointed to the command of the army of Italy. Young and enterprising, he displayed qualities of ardour, energy, and perseverance worthy of a better cause. Victory followed victory. The skill of the oldest and most experienced generals failed when brought into contact with him, and he was soon placed at the head of an army flushed with success.

Returning home, he was consumed with a passion for military glory, and, with a bold but unscrupulous genius, he designed his expedition to Egypt. Egypt, long sunk under oppression, was made, under his rule, to bear some resemblance to the bustling and prosperous land which it had been in the days of the Pharaohs. He was made First Consul of France. The fortunes of the country, which had long declined, began, under his hand, to rally. Even the physical barriers imposed by nature did not present obstacles too great for his perseverance to overcome. The Alps themselves were

scaled by him. The crown, for which he had so long panted, was at last placed upon his brow. The Pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church travelled to Paris, to preside at the ceremony of his coronation; and art lent all its aid to make the spectacle gorgeous.

Even this elevation, however, did not mark the zenith of Napoleon's power. In a series of battles he defeated every army which opposed him. As he grew in power, however, he grew also in pride. His levées and ante-rooms were crowded, not only with courtiers, but with princes and kings, longing for his smiles or a glance of approbation. But, based on unrighteousness, even this mighty empire was to pass away like the mirage.

Blinded by pride, he was tempted to invade Russia. Amidst the snows of that vast empire, he saw entombed an army surpassing in magnitude any which had ever been led forth by a conqueror in modern times. His power was sapped by this disaster. The combined monarchs of Europe rose, in the hope of deliverance from the oppression which had so long weighed them down. One by one, he saw the fragments of his authority pass away. Like a desperate gambler, he risked his all upon the die, and found himself at last a captive on the barren rock of St. Helena.

And now was to be exemplified the vanity of worldly ambition. The mighty monarch's train was reduced to a few attendants, and his territory to a plot of garden ground. He, who had made so many widows and orphans, was himself deprived of his wife and son. The schemes to which his active mind turned for recreation proved abortive. "Let us live on the past!" he exclaimed. But the retrospect exhibited only a course of selfish aggrandisement. He sickened, and pined for death. "Why," he would ask, "did the cannon balls spare me to die in this manner? I am no longer the Great Napoleon." "How fallen I am! My strength, my faculties forsake me. I do not live; I merely exist."

At other times his reflections took a religious turn: "Alexander, Cæsar, Charlemagne, and myself founded empires upon force. Jesus Christ alone founded His empire upon love, and at this hour millions of men would die for Him. I die before my time, and my

body will be given back to the earth to become food for the worms. Such is the fate which so soon awaits him who has been called the Great Napoleon. What an abyss between my deep misery and the eternal kingdom of Christ, which is proclaimed, loved, and adored, and which is extending over the whole earth!"

In his last hours, his thoughts mingled with the battle strife: "Steingell, Dessaix, Masséna," he exclaimed, in the midst of his wanderings of mind, "victory is declaring itself. Run! hasten! press the charge! they are ours."

Soon afterwards he died. A narrow grave, overhung by a weeping willow, long marked the spot where the remains of the mighty conqueror reposed.

JOSEPH'S HISTORY.

EAVEN'S favourite down a darksome pit they cast,

His rich-lined robe and lofty dreams deriding; Then, from his tears their ruthless faces hiding, Sell him to merchants who with spicery past. The changeful years o'er that fair slave fleet fast: Behold him now in glorious chariot riding, Arrayed in shining vesture, and presiding O'er Egypt's councils,-owned by Heaven at last. In pit or palace, God's own hand was weaving The "many-coloured " texture of his days, The brightest tints till last in wisdom leaving. So when in dismal paths our feet are sinking, Let us be looking soon for lightsome rays, For our wise Father "thoughts of peace is thinking.”

Rev. R. Wilton.

son.

LOOK UP!

OOK up, James! Look up, I say; up, up!" How earnestly, and with what intense emotion the father spoke these words to his James stood on the edge of the scaffold of the capacious barn, catching on his fork the hay which his father tossed up to him from the loaded cart on the floor. Mr. Holton was a strong man, and as he threw up the heavy masses, none but a dexterous hand could catch them and give them a second throw back "under the eaves."

More than half an hour James had stood there, with the perspiration dripping from his brow, when suddenly his foot slipped, his head reeled, and his father saw with alarm that he was about to fall. Then came his sudden exclamation, "Look up, James; look up, up!"

And James did look up. Almost with the suddenness of an electric flash, he turned his eyes towards the roof; and as he did so, the giddiness passed away, he saw just above him a beam, which he grasped, and he was saved.

James thought of this often afterwards. He remembered it many years, and it became a life-lesson to him. Five years after, he stood on the verge of another height more dangerous than the first: He had left the farm, and sought the counter. New temptations assailed him; pleasant young men invited him to their resorts, and the red wine glistened before him in the glass. Such were the reports which reached his home, and the father's heart was pained. His prayers ascended, while earnest letters pleaded with the tempted youth. "Look up, James; look up!" the father wrote. "When your foot stands on the slippery verge, look up. Your head will become steady, and you will see Jesus. Grasp Him, and you will be safe."

The young man remembered that narrow escape in his father's barn. Was he really now in so dangerous a condition? Was he really sliding, as he felt his feet going on that scaffold's edge?

Then came a letter from the mother, tender, and full of Jesus. How it struck upon the heart of the son! He knew that all her every-day life had been like that letter, full of Christ. He remembered her prayers, and now she was beseeching him to pray. He had almost forgotten to do that. His evenings had been so full of enticement, and exhausted nature had demanded so much sleep in the morning, that there seemed no time for prayer. Conscience admonished as he read the letters whose words had been winged by prayer, and whose pages were blotted with the tears of the writers.

"Look up, James; look up, up, I say!" He could hear the ring of the words, even as he heard them on that morning in the hot barn. There was a new meaning in them now. He knew there were prayers for him at home, and the Holy Spirit followed him now in his wanderings. He could not doubt it. At length he looked up, and what a flood of light illumined him! He prayed timidly, vaguely at first, then with a clearer light, then with earnestness. He was saved. His Sabbath-breaking companions could persuade him no longer; the evening revel lost its charms; he looked no more upon the "wine when it is red."

Life, light, and love were in his heart, and high up before him he saw an everlasting crown. Whenever he saw any downcast, he bade them "look up; " when any sinned he pointed up; and when temptation assailed, he still looked up. Thus he became a blessing; for wherever he went, he still heard the words, "Look up, James; look up!"

THE GREAT TEACHER.

READ ST. JOHN xiv. 15-31.

It

HIT Sunday, or Pentecost, is one of the most important seasons of the year. was the day on which the promised gift of the Holy Ghost was bestowed on the disciples.

No doubt the Holy Spirit was given oftentimes before. Holy men of old felt the Spirit's power in teaching, comforting, sanctifying their hearts. But on the day of Pentecost He came down from heaven with a fuller power than had ever been felt before: He came to abide in the hearts of Christ's people. And oh, that the blessing of Pentecost may be given, as it were, over again!

We speak of the Holy Spirit, of His work in the heart, and of His powerful influence in the world; but the natural man, the unenlightened man, understands it not; it is folly to him. He cannot see the Holy Spirit with his bodily eyes, and therefore he does not believe in Him. It is very different, however, with the people of God; "But ye know Him, for He dwelleth with you, and shall be in you." They understand what the Holy Spirit is; for they have experienced His mighty power within them. And whatever they know of God, or of true holiness, they feel that they owe it all to the gracious Spirit who has bestowed His gifts upon them.

Our Lord further speaks of the Holy Ghost as the great Teacher of His Church. He calls Him "the Spirit of truth," to show the difference between Him and all the false spirits that were in the world; and to show also that He alone is able to keep us from error, and to bring home God's truth to our hearts. And then He declares concerning Him, "He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you." The fact is, we know nothing as we ought to know unless the Spirit teaches us. We cannot feel our sins as we ought to feel them, we cannot find pardon and peace in the Saviour, if the Spirit does not enlighten us. "No man," says the apostle, can say that Jesus is the Lord but by the Holy Ghost." He must take of the things of Christ, and show them to us. He must bring to our recollection, and write upon our hearts, the precious truth of God.

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Above all, without the Spirit's teaching we cannot love Christ; and certainly if we do not love Him we cannot obey Him. Our Lord dwells on this in the passage before us. "If ye love Me," He says, "keep My commandments." True love and obedience will always go together. And then a little further on, in the twenty-first verse, He says, "He that hath My commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth

Me: and he that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will love him, and will manifest Myself to him." There are some to whom the Saviour manifests Himself (or reveals Himself) in a peculiar manner. There are some who see in Him a preciousness and a power which others cannot feel. And who are these highly favoured ones? Who are these to whom the Saviour thus reveals Himself? It is those who come to Him with true and loving hearts, and who earnestly desire to do His will, and to obey Him in all things. He vouchsafes to them His light and love.

Yes, if you and I are true to Christ, if we love Him and try to serve Him, this promise will be fulfilled in our case, "I will manifest myself to him."

How truly blessed are those who thus know the Saviour, and not only have the love of God and of Christ in their hearts, but have God Himself and Christ Himself thus dwelling within them! "My Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him."

Our blest Redeemer, ere He breathed
His tender, last farewell,

A Guide, a Comforter, bequeathed
With us to dwell.

Spirit of purity and grace,

Our weakness, pitying, see:

Oh make our hearts Thy dwelling-place,
And worthier Thee.

ALMOST LOST.

OME few years ago, in the month of July, a noble steamer was ploughing the blue waters of the broad Atlantic. The sky was clear and brilliant, and the deck was crowded with passengers, enjoying the invigorating breeze, and gazing with delight on the varying phases of the magniNot even a passing cloud appeared to mar the joyousness and glory of the scene.

ficent ocean.

In an unexpected moment, an excited cry was heard through the ship, "A man overboard! a man overboard!" All hurried to the side of the vessel, when one of the younger officers was seen battling for life with the merciless waves. Never can I forget the distress and agony depicted on every countenance. A boat was instantly lowered, manned by brave sailors, who, with strong arm and determined will, pulled towards him. After an agonising suspense, they succeeded in dragging him, exhausted and half dead, safely on board, amid the plaudits of rejoicing and loud exclamations, "Saved, saved!"

Does not this incident suggest to the reflecting mind the appalling fact, that not one only, but vast multitudes all around us, are in extreme peril, about to be engulfed in the vortex of everlasting ruin?

"Can nothing be done to save them ere they sink to rise no more?" Thanks be to God, the life-boat of

the Gospel is already prepared by infinite mercy. But the life-boat must be manned and sent forth without delay to the rescue of perishing souls.

Shall not we, who have been recovered from like perils by the great Saviour, put forth new and vigorous efforts to save those whom we know to be in imminent peril? Whatever is done must be done promptly, for the shadows of the night are about to fall, and the victims of sin and Satan are even now almost lost.

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CHRIST OR CÆSAR.

TE have no king but Cæsar," cried the Jews, when Pilate asked them, "Shall I crucify your King?"

Tiberius Cæsar, whom the Jews preferred to Jesus of Nazareth, was the Roman emperor who ruled the world in those days; a cruel tyrant who delighted to shed the blood of his people.

In one part of his reign he retired to the beautiful island of Capreæ, in the Bay of Naples; and now the spot is shown where poor unhappy men, who displeased him, were first tortured and then cast headlong into the sea.

Thirty-seven years after the Jews crucified Jesus of Nazareth, Titus, the son of Vespasian, the Roman emperor, laid siege to Jerusalem. The Jews suffered terrible privations; famine raged in the city, and one mother is said to have killed and eaten her own son. The Temple was reduced to ashes, and to crown the whole, six thousand people, who took refuge in one gallery, perished by fire at the hands of the soldiers.

The Jews made a deliberate choice when they refused Christ, and declared, "We have no king but Cæsar."

This choice is being repeated now. Men and women are saying every day, "We will not have Christ to reign over us; we would rather have our own way, and do our own will, than yield to His loving invitations. We care not for the future, we will enjoy ourselves in the present." And all the time the Master stands and knocks at the doors of their hearts, and wants them to invite Him in.

So Jesus had to turn away at last, and say, "Ye will not come unto Me, that ye might have life!"

Let not your choice be self and sin, but Christ and holiness. Believe in the living, loving Saviour, who waits to be gracious, and choose Him as your King, your Elder Brother, your all and in all.