seven provinces, with a population of 29,000,000 each, have only thirteen missionaries to them; 185,000,000 are accessible, but have never yet been reached by the Gospel. I pray God to lay this to your heart. Jesus said, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." You cannot go into every region of the world, but you can take any of them with you to your closet. Do this with China. - Rev. Mr. Taylor, a returned missionary.

THE HEATHEN.

HELPLESS, through lack of vision,

The heathen nations lie;
And through our indecision
We're leaving them to die.
What millions now are falling
Into a hopeless grave,
While multitudes are calling

For some kind power to save.

Here waters of salvation

In full abundance flow;
And well our favoured nation
Their healing virtues know.
Shall we our blessings cherish,
And still our aid withhold,
Where countless millions perish
In misery untold?

THE KING-FISHER. THESE birds prey upon fish, which they take by darting, arrow-like, into the water, and seizing, transversely, with their sharp and strong beaks.

It builds its nest on the banks of streams. On all our streams, especially those which flow through fertile meadows, and abound in fish, may this richly-coloured but voracious bird be met with, glancing backwards and forwards like a meteor, dazzling by the brilliancy of its hues as they flash in the sun. Often may it be seen poising itself at a moderate degree of elevation over the water, and then darting with astonishing rapidity and suddenness upon some unwary trout or minnow, deep beneath the surface, but which is seldom missed by its assailant, so impetuous is the plunge, and so aided is the bird, in passing through the water, by its acutely wedge-shaped contour of body, and by its burnished plumage. Its ordinary way, however, of watching for its victims is for it to sit with dogged patience on a branch, or tree, or rocky projection overhanging the stream, whence, in silence and alone, it watches every occurrence in the watery element below. Should its prey appear within reach, down it goes instantaneously like a shot, the crystal water scarcely bubbling with the plumage; next moment it rises up, bearing its prey in its beak, and returns to its resting-place again. The bird now commences the destruction of its captive, without losing its hold; it passes the fish between its mandibles till it has it grasped fairly by the tail, and then ends its struggles by beating its head against the branch on which it sits. It next reverses its position, and swallows it. The burnished feathers of this class of bird throws off the water, and prevents their bodies from being wet when they make the plunge.

TOM CASTLE.

THERE lived close to my mother's house, some years ago, a wild young fellow of the name of Tom Castle. He was a pigeon-flyer, race-runner, and prize-fighter. He was the terror of the neighbourhood. Scarcely a week passed but Tom was fighting. On one occasion he was severely stabbed, but when he recovered he was as bad as ever. Richard Weaver came to preach in the Free Trade Hall, and Tom was persuaded to go and hear him. That night he was convinced of sin, and the next night he was savingly brought to Jesus. From that moment he was a changed young man. He went about preaching Jesus, and was the means in God's hand of bringing very many to a knowledge of the truth.

From the day of my conversion we were companions in the Gospel, and a more devoted servant of Christ I never met. It did not matter how far the distance, nor how cold the night, nor how late the hour; winter or summer, rain or snow, if Tom heard of any who were sick, he would go and tell them about Jesus; and many have borne testimony at the eleventh hour that they knew their sins were forgiven through hearing the truth from the lips of dear Tom Castle. He was also an earnest, powerful, and successful open-air preacher. A friend of mine, dear Robert Barlow, with whom Tom laboured, told me that the poor people used to say, "We like Tom because we understand him." God indeed spoke through him, and many times I have listened to him and felt the silent tear trickling down my cheek. When the Lord brought him to himself, four years ago, he could not tell

bis letters, but in a short time he learned to read his Bible. Many of the worst characters in his neighbourhood were by him told of Jesus, and some were saved.

The last time he preached along with dear Robert Barlow, he told the people he felt sure he should never see them again. He went to his work soon after that, and received an injury from a circular saw, which caused his death within forty-eight hours. He was carried home to his wife and little child, and doctors were sent for, but all in vain ;-the Lord wanted him. He suffered intense agony, but he never lost sight of Jesus.

His sister said to him a short time before he died, Tom, my lad, thou art going to die." " No, Hannah," he said with a smile, "not going to die; going to live; for he that believeth in Jesus shall never die." A few hours afterwards he said to his wife, "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord." And with a smile upon his face he fell asleep in the arms of Jesus. He was buried in the Ardwick Cemetery, and was followed to the grave by hundreds of people, who wept bitterly as he was lowered into the grave. We have not to pray for him now, for we know he has gone to rest; and by-and-bye, when Jesus comes, we shall see him, and hear him sing praises unto Him who washed him from his sins in his own precious blood. Yours in Jesus only, H. MOORHOUSE.

Manchester.

COLPORTEURS IN LANCASHIRE. REFERRING to the colporteurs, Mr. Swallow, Agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society, says :