MR. CHARLES'S HOUSE AT BALA.

Half an hour later, Mary Jones, having shared David Edwards's frugal breakfast, set off on her homeward journey.

The day was somewhat cloudy, but the child did not notice it; her heart was full of sunshine. The wind blew strongly, but a great calm was in her soul, and her young face was so full of happiness that the simple folk she met on the way could not but notice her as she tripped blithely on, her bare feet seeming hardly to press the ground, her eyes shining with deep content, while the wallet containing her newly-found treasure was no longer slung across her back, but clasped close to her bosom.

The sun rose and burst through the clouds, glorifying all the landscape; and onward steadily went Mary, her heart, like the lark's song, full of thanksgiving, and her voice breaking out now and again into melody, to which the words of some old hymn or of a well-known and much-loved text set themselves, without an effort on the girl's part.

On, still on, she went, heeding not the length and weariness of the way; and the afternoon came, and the sun set in the western heavens with a glory that made Mary think of the home prepared above for God's children; that heaven with its walls of jasper, and its gates of pearl, and its streets of gold, and its light that needs nor sun nor moon, but streams from the Life-giving Presence of God Himself.

That evening Jacob and his wife were seated waiting for supper and for Mary. What news would the child bring? How had she sped? Had she received her Bible? These were some of the questions which the anxious parents asked themselves, listening the while for their daughter's return after the fatigues and possible dangers of her fifty miles' walk.

But the worthy couple were not long kept in suspense.

Presently the light step which they knew so well, approached the cottage; the latch was lifted, and Mary entered, weary, foot-sore, dusty and travel-stained indeed, but with happiness dimpling her cheeks and flashing in her eyes. And Jacob held out both arms to his darling, and as he clasped her to his heart, he murmured in the words of the prophet of old, "Is it well with the child?" And Mary, from the depths of a satisfied heart, answered solemnly, but with gladness, "It is well."

We sometimes see—and particularly in the case of young people—that great eagerness for the possession of some coveted article is followed by indifference when the treasure is safely in their hands. It was not so, however, with Mary Jones. The Bible for which she had toiled, and waited, and prayed, and wept, became each day more precious to her. The Word of the Lord was indeed nigh unto her, even in her mouth and in her heart.

Chapter after chapter was learned by heart, and the study of the Sunday school lessons became her greatest privilege and delight.

If a question were asked by the teacher, which other girls could not answer, Mary was always appealed to, and was invariably ready with a thoughtful, intelligent reply, while in committing to memory not only chapters, but whole books of the Bible, she was unrivalled both in the school and neighbourhood.

Nor was this all. For though to love, and read, and learn the Bible are good things, this is not the sum of what is required by Him who has said "If ye love Me, 'keep' My commandments."

Mary's study of the Word of God did not prevent the more than ever faithful discharge of all her duties. Her mother, who had at one time feared that Mary's desire for book learning, and longing to possess a Bible of her own, might lead her to the neglect of her practical duties, was surprised and delighted to see that, although there was a change indeed in the girl, it was a change for the better.

The holy truths that sank into her heart were but the precious seed in good ground, which brings forth fruit an hundredfold; and the more entire the consecration of that young heart to the Lord, the sweeter became even the commonest duties of life, because they were done for Him.

Not very long after Mary's visit to Bala, she had the great pleasure of seeing again the kind friend with whom, in her memory, her beloved Bible would now always be associated.

Mr. Charles, in the course of his periodical visits to the various villages where his circulating schools were established, came to Abergynolwyn, to inspect the school there under the charge of Lewis Williams, and by examining the children personally, to assure himself of their progress.

Among the bright young faces upturned to him, his observant eye soon caught sight of one countenance that he had cause to remember with special and with deep interest; and the interest deepened still more, when he found that from her alone all his most difficult questions received replies, and that her intelligence was only surpassed by the childlike humility which is one mark of the true Christian.

We may be very sure that Mr. Charles did not miss this opportunity of saying a few kind words to his young friend; and that Mary in her turn treasured them up, and remembered them through the many years and the various events of her after life.

BALA LAKE.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE WORK BEGUN.

Henceforward, then, the olive-leaf plucked off,
  Carried to every nation,
Shall promise be of re-awakening life,
  Our sinful world's salvation.

WE have seen that the incident recorded in the last chapter made a deep impression upon the mind and heart of Mr. Charles. The thought of that bare-footed child, her weary journey, her eagerness to spend her six years' savings in the purchase of a Bible; then her bitter tears of disappointment, and her sweet tears of joy—all these came back to his recollection again and again, came blended with the memory of the ignorance and darkness of too many of his countrymen, and with the cry that was ascending all over Wales for the Word of God.

The girl's story was only an illustration of the terrible sense of spiritual death that prevailed during this famine of Bibles; and none could know so well as this good man—whose influence was, from the nature of his work, very widely diffused—how deep a want lay at the root of the people's degradation and impiety, against which he seemed, with all his earnest striving, to be making such slow progress. What wonder, then, that the question how to secure the publication of sufficient copies of God's Word for Wales, occupied his mind almost without cessation?

In the winter of 1802, Mr. Charles visited London, full of his one great thought and purpose, though not as yet seeing how it was to be accomplished.

It was while revolving the matter in his mind one morning, that the idea occurred to him of a Society for the diffusion of the Scriptures, a society having for its sole object the publication and distribution of God's Holy Word.

Consulting with some of his friends who belonged to the Committee of the Religious Tract Society, he received the warmest sympathy and encouragement, and was introduced at their next meeting, where he spoke most feelingly and eloquently about Wales and its poverty in Bibles, bringing forward the story which forms the subject of our little book, and which gave point and pathos to his appeal on behalf of his countrymen.

Nor was the appeal without effect. A thrill of sympathy with a people that so longed and thirsted for the Word of God, ran through the assembled meeting. An earnest desire took possession of Mr. Charles's hearers to do something towards supplying the great need which he so touchingly advocated; and the hearts of many were further stirred, and their sympathies quickened, when one of the secretaries of the Committee, the Reverend Joseph Hughes, rose, and in reply to Mr. Charles's appeal for Bibles for Wales, exclaimed enthusiastically: "Mr. Charles, surely a society might be formed for the purpose; and if for Wales, why not for the world?"

This noble Christian sentiment found an echo in the hearts of many among the audience, and the secretary was instructed to prepare a letter inviting Christians everywhere, and of all denominations, to unite in forming a society having for its object the diffusion of God's Word over the whole earth.

Two years passed in making known the purpose of the Committee, and in necessary preliminaries, but in the month of March, 1804, the British and Foreign Bible Society was actually established, and at its first meeting the sum of £700 was subscribed.

Unfortunately Mr. Charles was unable to be present at this meeting. He was hard at work at home in Wales, but he heard the news with the greatest joy; and it was owing to his exertions and to those of his friends, as well as to the efforts of other Christian workers who deeply felt the great need of the people at this time, that the contributions in Wales amounted to nearly £1,900; most of this sum consisting of the subscriptions and donations of the lower and poorer classes.

In the foundation of the Bible Society all denominations met, and were brought thus into sympathy by a common cause, and an earnest wish to serve one common Master. Hence we see representatives of all Christian Churches working together for the good and enlightenment of the world.

Meanwhile, wherever Mr. Charles was at work, wherever his influence extended, there was awakened the longing, and thence arose the petition, for the Word of Life; and wherever he told the story, either on Welsh or English platforms, of the little maiden of Llanfihangel, the simple narrative never failed to carry home some lessons to the heart of each hearer.

MONUMENT TO MR. CHARLES AT BALA.

Great was the joy and thankfulness of this single-minded and hard-working minister of Christ, when he learnt that the first resolution of the Committee of the Bible Society was to bring out an edition of the Welsh Bible for the use of Welsh Sunday schools; and his delight was greater still when the first consignment of these Bibles reached Bala in 1806.

Among the most useful workers in the early years of the Bible Society was the Reverend John Owen, who soon became one of its secretaries, and proved a most earnest and able promoter of the glorious enterprise.

Associated also with this time of the great Society's childhood are the honoured names of Steinkopff, of Wilberforce, and of Josiah Pratt; while in Wales, among its earliest supporters, were Dr. Warren, Bishop of Bangor, and Dr. Burgess, Bishop of St. David's, who united cordially with Mr. Charles and others in the good work. As to Mr. Charles himself, he evinced the deepest interest in the new spheres of labour and usefulness opening in all directions,—an interest which showed itself in many practical ways up to the time of his death.

But in following the operations of the Bible Society, we must not forget our friend Mary Jones, who during this time had passed from early girlhood to womanhood.

On leaving school, she worked as a weaver, and we conclude that she was still living with her parents.

Of one thing we may be sure: that her precious Bible was as dear to her as ever, and that she was intensely interested in the founding of the Bible Society, and in the news of the first edition of Welsh Bibles having been received at Bala.

But in addition to her weaving, and the household help she gave her mother, who was not so well or strong as formerly, Mary had developed a talent for dressmaking, which stood her in good stead when she wished to earn a little extra money.

All who could afford it came to her to cut out and make their dresses, and though Mary never wasted a moment, she sometimes found it quite difficult to do during the day all that she had planned.

As for Jacob, he was more and more a martyr to asthma, and when the winter winds and fogs came his sufferings were very great, though they never exceeded the quiet patience and fortitude with which he bore his affliction—bore it, as he said, "for the dear Lord's sake," who had borne so much for him.

Occasionally Mr. Charles would visit Abergynolwyn, and every now and then Llanfihangel, and at such times he and Mary Jones met again, and she would learn from him how the Society in London was going on—that great London which was a strange, distant, untried world to her, such vague ideas had she of its size and its distance from the little, quiet, secluded place where she lived.

And so, up in London, the great tree of life went on spreading, and growing, while the root from which it had sprung remained in Wales unperceived almost beneath the soil. And thus we see in this life that God has need of the high and the lowly, the great and the small, the gold and the baser metal; and "out" of all, and "through" all, and "in" all, He works His wondrous way, and permits His creatures to join, as it were, with Him in the turning of the world from darkness to His marvellous light.

Manet. "It remains."
(From a Bible in the Society's Library.)

LLAN-Y-CIL CHURCH.
(The Burial-place of the Rev. Thomas Charles.)

CHAPTER IX.

YOUTHFUL PROMISE FULFILLED.

Nurtured and nursed of Heaven, the blossom bloom'd,
      Until an open flower
With buds around it, gazed upon the sun,
      Or drank the shower;
Nor did forget, in this the blooming time,
      The fragrance due
To Him who gives to Nature all her wealth,
      To flowers their hue.

WHEN next we glance at our heroine of Llanfihangel, she is Mary Jones no longer. A great change has come over her surroundings, and her school work and her old home life with her parents are things of the past. For she has married a weaver, Thomas Lewis by name, and is living at the village of Bryncrug, near Towyn, not very far from Llanfihangel. But the difference in circumstances has not changed the character of Mary, save as the advancing summer may be said to change the fruit by ripening it.

So dutiful and devoted a daughter as Mary had ever proved herself, would hardly have left her parents while she could minister to the wants of their declining years, work for them, and be their great joy and comfort. So it is only reasonable to suppose that ere she married, both good old Jacob and his wife had been laid to rest, and that Mary, in casting in her lot with Thomas Lewis, whom possibly she had known for many years, would be neglecting no duty that could be required from a loving daughter.

But here, at Bryncrug, with a husband and children of her own, and the care of a home for which she alone was responsible, with new duties, and fresh cares, Mary's love for her Bible had grown, not diminished.

Other things had changed—companionships, home influences, claims, interests—but the Sacred Word remained to her unaltered, except that every day it grew more into her heart, and became more one with her life, yielding her, in answer to careful study, and earnest prayer for God's Spirit of enlightenment, deep meanings of truth and sweetness which had hitherto been unperceived.

If Mary's life was a busy one during the years spent at Llanfihangel, doubly so was her life here at Bryncrug. But the same quiet energy and steadfastness of purpose for which she had ever been remarkable still pervaded all that she did, making every duty, however humble and homely, a service for Christ, while by her consistent Christian walk and example she influenced for good all that were about her.

BRYNCRUG, NORTH WALES.

If a neighbour's child wished to have a Sunday school lesson explained, she invariably came to Mary, who could always spare a few minutes to give the instruction that had been so precious to her in her youthful days. And her intimate knowledge of the Bible gave her a very clear way of explaining its truths, while her insight into character, and her sympathetic nature, made her a wise counsellor and an acceptable teacher.

If, again, a friend wanted a hint or two in the making of a new dress, or advice as to the management of her bee-hives, Mary was always the authority appealed to, as being the most capable, as well as the kindest of neighbours, and ever ready to lend a helping hand, or speak a helpful word.

Thus in Bryncrug she was winning for herself the love and confidence of her fellow-creatures, and showing forth in life and character the glory of that Saviour whose faithful handmaid she tried to be.

We have just alluded to the fact of her being an authority in the management of bees, and she was justly considered so, as her success with her own bee-hives sufficiently proved.

That success was simply remarkable, both as to the large number of hives, and their profitable results.

The attracting power and influence which Mary seemed to exercise over people appeared to extend even to her bees; but, be this as it might, we are told that whenever she approached the hives, her reception by her winged subjects was nothing less than royal, such was the loyalty and enthusiasm of these sensible, busy little honey-makers.

The air would be thick with buzzing swarms, and presently they would alight upon her by hundreds, covering her from head to foot, walking over her, but never attempting to sting, or showing any feeling but one of absolute confidence and friendliness. She would even catch a handful of them as though they had been so many flies—but softly, so as not to hurt them—and they never misunderstood her, or offered her the slightest injury. In short, there seemed to be a sort of tacit agreement between Mary and her bees, and they were apparently proud and pleased that a part of what they were the means of earning should go towards the support of God's work in the world. For Mary divided the proceeds thus:

The money brought by the sale of the honey was used for the family and household expenses, but the proceeds of the wax were divided among the societies which, poor as she was, Mary delighted to assist.

Among these, foremost in her estimation stood the British and Foreign Bible Society, with the establishment of which she had been so closely connected, and she was never happier than when she could spare what for her was a large sum, to help in sending the Word of God—so precious to her own heart—over the world.

Mary was also much interested in the Calvinistic Methodist Missionary Society—a Society founded by the denomination to which she had, for so many years, belonged; and many a secret self-denial could have borne witness to her generosity in giving of her substance for the furtherance of the Gospel.

On one occasion we are told that, when a collection was made at Bryncrug for the "China Million Testament Fund," in the year 1854, a ten shilling gold piece was found in the collection plate, neatly wrapped up between half-pence, and thus hidden until the money came to be counted.

This was Mary's gift, the outcome of a loving, generous heart touched by God's love and the spiritual wants of her fellow-creatures.

Mary was sitting at her cottage door one day, when a neighbour, Betsy Davies, came up. "Good day, Mary," said she; "may I come and sit with you for an hour this afternoon? I've a dress I must alter for my eldest girl, and I don't see how to begin, so I thought may be you'd be good enough to show me."

"Yes, that I will, with pleasure," replied Mary. "My children are all at school, and my husband has gone to Towyn, so I have a quiet hour or two before me. Let me see your work, Betsy."

Betsy Davies laid the garment over Mary; knee, and Mary's eyes, quick and intelligent as ever, saw in a moment or two what was needed.

"That's not a difficult job," said she pleasantly, "nor yet a long one. Just unpick that seam, Betsy, and I'll pin it for you as it ought to be; then if you let down the tuck in the skirt, you'll have it long enough, and as for the rent in the stuff, I think I've got some thread about the right colour with which you can darn it up. I will show you, my dear, how I darn my little Mary's dresses when she tears them, as she does very often, playing with her brothers. Yours can be mended just in the same way, and you'll see the place will hardly show at all."

When the two women had settled down to their work, Betsy said, "I wish you'd tell me, Mary, how you manage to get on as you do. You can't be rich people, your husband being only a weaver like mine and like most of the others here, and yet you never get into debt, and you always seem to have enough for yourselves, and what's more wonderful still, you've enough to give away something too; I must say I can't understand it!"

"I don't think there's anything very hard to understand," said Mary, smiling. "If by great care and a little self-denial we can contribute something of our substance to help on God's work, it is surely the greatest joy we can have."

"Yes, that's all very well," replied Betsy, "but I never have anything to contribute; and yet I haven't as many children as you, and so my family and housekeeping doesn't cost so much."

"It's like this, Betsy dear," said Mary, "we ask ourselves—I mean my husband, and my children, and I, all of us—'What can we do without?' And one and another is willing to give up some little indulgence, and so we save the money. This we put into a box which we call the treasury, and whenever we add anything to what we keep there, we think of the widow who cast into the treasury of the temple her two mites, and of our Lord's kind, tender words about her."

"But what sort of things can you give up?" asked Betsy. "We poor folk, it seems to me, don't have any more than just the necessaries of life, and one can't give up eating and drinking, or go without clothes to our backs."

"Yet I think if you consider a bit, you'll see there are some trifles which are not really needful, though they may be pleasant," replied Mary. "Now for instance, Thomas had always been used to a pipe and a bit of tobacco in an evening after his work was done; but when we were all wondering what we could give up for our dear Lord's sake, he said, 'Well, wife, I'll give up my smoke in the evenings.' And I tell you, Betsy, the tears came into my eyes when I heard that, knowing that my husband's words meant a real sacrifice. Then our eldest son, wishing to imitate his father, cried out, 'And I've still got that Christmas box my master gave me last winter, and I'll give that.' And Sally, she gave up the thought of a new hat ribbon I'd promised her, and she sponged and ironed her old one instead, and wore it, feeling prouder than if it had been new. And as for little Benny, he was all one day picking up sticks in the wood to earn a penny, and that was his gift."

"And you yourself?" asked Betsy, with interest.

"Oh, I have the wax that my bees make; and the money that I got by selling that went into the treasury, as well as any other small sum I did not actually need. And this I must say, Betsy, we have never really suffered for the want of anything we have given to God; and He repays us with such happiness and content as He alone can give."

"That I can well believe," rejoined Betsy, "for I never hear you grumble, or see you look cross or discontented like the rest of the neighbours, and as I do myself only too often. Well, Mary," she continued, "I mean to try your plan, though it will come very hard at first, as I'm not used to that sort of saving."

"I think I got used to it when I was a child, putting away my little mites of money towards buying a Bible," rejoined Mary. "For six years I put by all my little earnings, and since then it has come natural."

"You did get your Bible, then?"

"Yes, indeed; this is the very one," and rising from her seat Mary took the much prized volume from the little table in the cottage, and put it into her visitor's hands.

Betsy looked at it, inside and out, then handed it back saying, "I really believe, Mary, that this Bible is one of the reasons why you are so different from all the rest of us. You've read and studied and learnt so much of it, that your thoughts and words and life are full of it."

And Mary turned her bright dark eyes, now full of happy tears, upon her companion, and answered in a broken voice—

"O Betsy dear, if there is a little, even a little truth in what you kindly say of me, I thank God that in His great mercy and love He suffers me, poor and weak and simple as I am, to show forth in my small way His glory, and the truth of His blessed Word."

Nunquam Frustra. "Never in Vain."
(From a Bible in the Society's Library.)

RUINS OF MARY JONES'S COTTAGE.

CHAPTER X.

HER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER.

O mighty tree, o'ershadowing all the earth,
In loneliest wilds thy seedling had its birth.

NOW our narrative nears its close. The last glimpse of our friend Mary shows us an aged woman clad in the curious old Welsh dress.

She holds in one hand a staff for the support of her trembling limbs, once so active and nimble; while with the other she clasps to her side her beloved Bible, the companion of so many years, the consoler and comforter, the guide and teacher of her life.

MARY JONES IN HER LATER YEARS.

How much of joy or of sorrow, of trial or of what the world calls success, had fallen to Mary's lot during her long life of eighty-two years, we know not. We learn that she had eight children, several of whom may have died in early life. One son, we believe, is living now [1882], having made his home in America.

Little as we know, however, of Mary's actual experiences, it was impossible that during her married life she should not have learned what deep sorrow meant, as it is almost certain that she survived several of her children, and quite certain that her husband too died before she did.

Still, since we are taught that God's children do not sorrow as those without hope, so we are sure that the childlike, trusting spirit of this handmaid of the Lord was as ready to suffer as to do the will of the Divine Master, and that however deep the affliction, there was no bitterness in the grief, no despair in the tears that watered the graves of loved ones gone before.

Feeble and tottering was now our once bright, bonny, blithe maiden, but it was only physically that Mary was altered. She was still the same brave, simple-hearted, earnest, faithful follower of Christ. Time with its changes, in parting her from most of those whom she loved on earth, had not separated her from the love of Jesus, or taken away her delight in the Word of the Lord that endureth for ever.

Indeed she loved her Bible better even than of old, for she understood it more fully, and had proved its truth beyond all doubting, again and again, in her daily life for so many years.

Can we doubt, then, that when the summons came, and she heard the voice which she had known and loved from childhood, saying to her "Come up higher!" she had no fears, no shrinking, but felt that surely since goodness and mercy had followed her all the days of her life, she should dwell in the house of the Lord—that house above, not made with hands—for ever.

Mary Jones died December the 28th, 1866, at the good old age of eighty-two. We have no particulars of her last moments, save that on her deathbed she bequeathed her precious Bible to the Rev. Robert Griffiths, who in his turn bequeathed it to Mr. Rees.

This Bible, which is now in the possession of the British and Foreign Bible Society, is a thick octavo, of the edition published by the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, in 1799—the last edition of the Welsh Bible previous to the establishment of the Bible Society.

The volume contains, in addition to the actual text of the now recognized and authorized Scripture, John Cannes' marginal references, the Apocrypha, the Book of Common Prayer, a metrical version of the Psalms by Edmund Prys, and various Church tables. It also contains, in Mary Jones's handwriting—in perhaps the first English that she had learned—a note that she bought it in the year 1800, when she was sixteen years old.

So, full of days, and like Dorcas of old, of good works, Mary Jones passed away from earth to the rest that remaineth for the people of God, a sheaf of ripe corn safely garnered at last in the heavenly granary.

GRAVE OF MARY JONES.
Probably the year of the death of Mary Jones should have been given as
1866, as on p. 144, since she was born in 1784.

She was buried in the little churchyard at Bryncrug, and a stone has been raised to her memory by those who loved to recall the influence of her beautiful life, and the important if humble part she had taken in the founding of the great work of the British and Foreign Bible Society.

As it is only by a view of the mighty-stemmed, wide-spreading oak that we can judge of the acorn's potency, its wealth of hidden and concentrated power, so we can hardly appreciate the great importance of the simple narrative which here stands recorded, unless we cast a brief glance over some of the details of the glorious work that arose from the small beginnings which form the subject of our story.

It is an undeniable fact that the idea of the establishment of the British and Foreign Bible Society laid fast hold of the public mind in Great Britain—a hold which extended with marvellous rapidity, as will be seen when we say that while during the first year the money expended in the operations of the Committee amounted to 691l.; in the eleventh year its expenditure had grown to 81,000l., swelling in the fifty-first year to 149,000l., while in 1890 the sum reached the enormous proportions of nearly 228,000l.

FAC-SIMILE OF WRITING ON THE BIBLE.

During the first three years following the establishment of the Society, it circulated 81,000 Bibles and Testaments, while in the year 1890 its distribution of Bibles, Testaments, and single books of Scripture, amounted to 3,792,263.

When the Society was founded, the Bible existed in less than fifty languages. Since then, by its agency, versions have been published in no less than 291 languages.

But these figures bewilder the mind, and it may be more interesting to see how the books have been distributed.

When from any fresh place the request comes for a supply of the Scriptures, special inquiries are instituted and all possible information obtained. The most accurate and trustworthy is supplied by missionaries labouring in the country whence the petition has been sent. It is the missionaries, too, who are for the most part the best qualified to translate the Divine Word, and the most ready to undertake this difficult but honourable task. When the translation is complete, the Society prints and sends over, free of cost, as many copies as are necessary for the mission work.

The thankful eagerness with which the Scriptures have been received by the South Sea Islanders, has been as pathetic as it was surprising. The natives would put down their names, months in advance, in the mission list, to bespeak a copy, willingly giving a dollar, or even two, for a Bible, showing thus their anxiety to possess the Scriptures.

Frequently it has been the case, as in Madagascar, that the deadly power of persecution has silenced the voice of the teacher. But persecution was of no avail. "The Lord gave the word, and great was the company of the preachers!" Here a book, and there a chapter, and there again a verse—mute yet eloquent teachers, carrying the Gospel of our Divine Lord into the very heart of the cruel idol-lands.

Thus, while the martyrs fell in their Master's work, and the few godly men that remained were ready to wail with Elijah of old, "Lo I, even I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away," the silent messengers were passing from hand to hand, the great work was going forward unseen, and the kingdom of God came once more, not with observation, but with a quiet, all-pervading power, turning chaos into order, and darkness into light.

It is a matter for deep thankfulness that in some countries—for instance Russia, where missionaries are not allowed to work—the Bible is welcomed by the people. Some touching incidents are recorded of the war with Turkey, showing clearly with what eagerness and gratitude the Scriptures were received.

An agent for the Bible Society residing at Warsaw, used to visit the infirmaries, accompanied by his daughters, and everywhere joy greeted their approach.

   "We often saw the poor soldiers sitting at the window," this gentleman writes, "waiting for us, and saluting us at a great distance; and the moment we entered the passage, we were hemmed in by a crowd of men that had not been supplied with Bibles. Even those who were struggling between life and death, and had apparently lost all interest in surrounding matters, would try and stretch out a hand to obtain a copy of the Scriptures; and when my daughters stooped down to them, asking 'Shall I read a few words to you?' a smile would often light up their countenances, and they would whisper,—'Yes, read, dear sister, and leave us the copy as a remembrance in case we recover.'"

During this war, too, the colporteurs of the Society followed the army on to the battlefields, selling thus about 15,000 volumes of the Scriptures, the soldiers buying copies to send home to loved ones whom they might never see again.

Then again, at the great fair of Nijni Novgorod, where the merchant and trade world of Russia assemble yearly for business transactions of every description, the Society has a stall, and at the fair of 1889 nearly 8,000 copies were sold.

As further proof of the power of the Bible and of its influence even where unaided by missionary zeal and enterprise, we give the following touching narrative.

A native of a little town on the shores of the Adriatic was obliged to leave home and go to Naples. There he was led to a knowledge of the truth through a Waldensian minister, and having embraced it, he joined the Church over which the minister presided. Afterwards, he removed to Florence, and thence he sent a Bible to a friend of his at home, accompanied by a letter containing these words:

   "This book has greatly benefited my soul; read it, and it will bring a blessing to yours."

That man took his friend's advice, read the book, and finding in it the truths his soul needed, gathered his friends and acquaintances around him to read it with them.

We must not detail the many obstacles thrown in his way by the enemies of the Gospel, but need only say that notwithstanding these, numbers continued to come and hear the reading of God's word, and that when, a few months later, the pastor of the Naples church went there, he found a number of people who believed the Gospel, and were ready to make a profession of their faith at whatever cost. They proved as good as their word, and a short time afterwards Signor Pons of Naples returned there to celebrate the Lord's Supper. He thus narrates the scene:—

   "The event which took place at — last week, is one which I can never cease to remember—one of those consolations which rarely fall to the lot of God's servants, but which more than compensate for the toils and privations of a lifetime. I found our friends awaiting me with the greatest eagerness, and hardly had I come among them when I was asked, 'This time we shall celebrate the Supper of the Lord, shall we not, sir?'

   "I did my best to set before them the solemnity of this step, but all my objections seemed only to quicken their ardour.

   "Several days were spent conversing, until, deeming that the time had arrived for administering the Lord's Supper to them, I proceeded to examine the candidates as to their knowledge of divine things. Thirty came forward, and most of these gave full satisfaction.

   "The scene at the Lord's Supper was most moving. As I prayed before partaking, sobs burst from every part of the room, and not a cheek was dry.

   "At the end of the service, one of the communicants rose and said, 'I can neither read nor write, but, by the grace of God, I feel that whereas before I wallowed in the mire and was blind, I am now in a glorious hall, illuminated by the blessed light of day. I can say no more.'"

Nardini, the colporteur at Padua, tells an interesting story, which further illustrates the reforming and life-giving power of the Bible under the blessing of Almighty God. We will let him relate it himself.

   "Having heard," he says, "that in a village not far from Vicenza a knife-grinder had died, giving a most encouraging testimony to the truths of the Gospel, I went to the place, to learn precisely the facts of the case.

   "I found that his name was Batista, and that being unmarried, he had for several years lived with his brothers. He was converted to the Lord solely by means of a Bible which he had bought, it is supposed, from some passing colporteur. Before the time of his conversion, in 1872, he had been a very profane and immoral man, but afterwards his conduct became blameless, and he urged all whom he knew to believe the Gospel. In the evenings, especially in winter and on the Lord's day, he invited others to join him in reading the Bible and talking of its precious truths. Batista died in July, 1877, (at the age of forty) with his Bible under his pillow. His life and death produced a deep impression on his neighbours, and his memory is fragrant in the village. As the result of his labours, two men who were dyers by trade have come firmly to believe the Gospel. He himself was never in a Protestant church in his life, nor did he even know a minister as member of one."

To the subject of colportage a brief space may not inappropriately here be given, as a means of good, the importance of which it would be impossible to over-estimate.

As probably every one knows, a colporteur is a man who carries something on his back. He may really be called a creation of the Bible Society, and though not so conspicuous as the missionary, he does a right noble work.

One of these godly and earnest men sold in Holland during about forty years of labour among the people, 139,000 copies of the Scriptures; and when he lay dying, his room was visited by numbers who wished for the privilege of hearing the brave old Christian's testimony to the truth, and of seeing how firm—even now at the last—was his faith in the Word of the Lord, which nearly all his life long he had been trying to circulate among the people.

One important work done by the colporteur is not to be accomplished by any other agency. He takes the Bible to those regions most remote from the great centres—to wild, thinly-populated neighbourhoods where the hum and bustle of traffic and mart, the cry of the crowded city, never penetrate.

For instance, in Norway, many of the peasants' homes are forty or fifty miles from any book-shop, and the people would never obtain the Scriptures, were it not for these devoted men, who toil up and down the mountains, and follow the fiords into the very midst of the country, carrying over land and by water the Word of Life.

Then again, the colporteurs are often the means of overcoming in the people's minds their unwillingness to purchase the Scriptures, and to listen to the truth.

They are earnest faithful Christians who love the Bible, and in telling what it has done for them, they bear testimony to what it can do for others. Often too they are men of wonderful memory and ready wit, and they can frequently arrest the attention of the careless by the quotation of some suitable passage, or startle the lethargic soul from its death-like stupor by the trumpet-blast of inspired warning.

We record the following instance, showing that the work of the colporteur is not confined to the mere porterage and sale of books. As it is taken from a German colporteur's journal, we give it in his own (translated) words:

   "One day, just after the dinner hour, I entered the house of a carpenter. When I found that he was taking his afternoon nap, my first thought was not to disturb him. But I could not feel easy in leaving him, so after a moment's hesitation I went up to where he lay, awoke him, and said 'Will you buy a Bible?'

   "'I am a Catholic,' he replied, 'and do not want one;' and he turned round to sleep again.

   "'That is what you say,' I answered, 'but God says "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light?"' The man started and sat up.

   "'I woke you purposely,' I continued, 'without caring whether you liked it or not; and in like manner, God, through His Word, is awaking you from your spiritual sleep.'

   "'But we are forbidden to read that book of yours,' he said.

   "'Nay,' I rejoined, 'what right has a priest to forbid what God commands? Obey Him rather than man.'

   "The man was silent. At last he said, 'A thing I had long forgotten comes to my memory. Twenty-five years ago I was working as a journeyman in Hamburg, and a friend of mine used every night, when we reached our lodgings, to read his Bible; and he told me just what you have been saying, to obey God rather than man. I can hear his warning voice now; and perhaps you have been sent to revive the impression before it is too late. Yes, I will read it. Death may soon come. Only the other day a ladder fell with me on it, and it was a miracle that I was not killed; but it may have been God's will I should be spared to awake as you have urged me to do.' With that he bought a Bible, with the words, 'Ah, I wish I had done this long ago!'"

Another striking story is told of one of the colporteurs in Bohemia.

He was coming to the end of a long day's work, sorely discouraged by the rebuffs with which he had met. There remained in the small town but one cluster of houses unvisited, and he was disposed to pass these by, especially as he knew one of them to be occupied by a gentleman who was an open enemy and mocker of the Bible. But his conscience was not easy. His instructions bade him, except for sufficient reason, call at every house; and besides this, to-day the words had been haunting him, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." In a humble sense those words described his own calling; and he felt he must be true to it. "Up, faint heart, and knock!" he said to himself; "who knows but thy fears shall be removed!"

So he plucked up courage to go to the door of this very man; and when it was opened, and the master of the house appeared, he could think of nothing to say but just this "Behold, I stand at the door and knock!"

The owner was taken aback, as the stranger added in a hurried, entreating tone: "I am not a common hawker; to-day Jesus Himself is standing at the door of your heart. You may turn 'me' away, but oh, do not reject 'Him.' Only believe His Word; I bring it to you. He will not cast you out." He paused, afraid at his own boldness, but not a word of rebuke followed.

The gentleman called his wife and daughter saying—"We must not let this good man go; let him sup with us."

He was led into the sitting-room, where they listened eagerly to him as he poured out freely all that was in his heart; and when they sat down to the evening meal, they looked to him to give thanks.

As to what the Society is doing at home, these pages are too brief to give any sort of record of the great work that is going on. There is hardly a school, or a hospital, or an asylum that has not been helped by it again and again, while out of it (just as from the ever-rooting boughs of the banyan-tree new growths arise) numbers of branch Bible Societies have sprung, each a centre of usefulness and of union in its own sphere.

And—speaking of union and sympathy in a common cause—it has been suggested, and with perfect truth, that even if the Bible Society had never circulated a single copy of the Scriptures, it would yet have done a noble work in affording a meeting-ground for Christian people of all ranks and stations, and of every denomination. For whatever the differences of opinion on some points, believers can unite as brothers in honouring God's Word, and speeding it forward over the whole earth.

Of the reality and genuineness of this sympathy and union, the great work done is perhaps the best testimony that could be offered. Happy, nay, thrice blest are all those who have a share in it.

And by these we do not mean only such as can give largely, or serve the Society in great and conspicuous ways. Let no one say that what he can give is but as a drop in the bucket, and therefore of no value. It is by the tiny rills that like a thread of silver wind adown the hill-side—by the silent night dews, by the softly-falling rains, by the quiet springs that swell among the peaty uplands—it is by "these" that the river is formed, by these that it is fed and sustained in its mighty flow, in the force and depth of the current that bears great ships on its bosom, down, down to the ocean. Not a drop is lost, nothing is valueless; all goes to make up an inestimably precious whole.

And now, in conclusion, dear friends young and old, if but one heart is moved by the perusal of these pages to more earnest work for the Master, to self-denial and loving service in the spread of His truth, to a more eager study of God's Word, and a greater zeal in circulating and making it known among others—then indeed this little story of the poor Welsh girl and her Bible will not have been written in vain.