agony, that for some minutes he lost all consciousness. Some labourers, who happened to be passing near the spot, ran to the assistance of the man and child, and soon succeeded in restoring animation to the latter; but what to do with Roberts they scarcely knew. At length, however, one of them was despatched to the town to procure medical assistance, while the others assisted him to walk, or rather carried him to his home. Mrs. Roberts, who had prepared her husband's tea, and was every minute expecting his return, was of course thrown into a state of great excitement and alarm when she saw him borne towards the cottage in the arms of the labourers. But she did what she could to restrain her feelings, and tried as well as she was able to alleviate her husband's racking pains. After what appeared a terribly long time, though it was in reality little more than half an hour, the doctor arrived. But he could do very little; for the twig had pierced the ball of the eye, and he at once saw that there was little or no hope of saving the sight. He, however, did what he could to allay the sufferings of the agonized patient, and, after some time, left him for the night. That was indeed a terribly long and dark night for poor Roberts. The inflammation in his eye was so strong that his head seemed literally on fire, and he could do nothing but groan and turn from side to side in his bed. After some days the violence of the pain somewhat abated, and he was enabled to leave his bed; but in less than a week a relapse took place, and the inflammation becoming more violent than ever, spread to the other eye, and when he again left his bed he had lost all perception of light. And then followed weeks and months of forced inactivity during the day-time, and of consequent restlessness during the night, when there seemed to be nothing to do but to get up in the morning and long for bed-time, and then to go to bed and long for morning. Occasionally some friend or neighbour would drop in; and then, if their conversation happened to be lively, Roberts forgot his troubles, at least for the time; but when they had gone, the old feeling of depression and despondency soon returned. Sometimes the clergyman would pay him a visit, and read some words of consolation from the good old Book, and then talk, not always very judiciously or reasonably, about resignation; and Roberts, as a Christian, tried to be resigned. But the struggle was a hard one; and if he did not murmur, he certainly desponded. With regard to a man's being resigned under affliction, it should be borne in mind that there is a great difference between one who is simply deprived of sight, and another whose whole frame is utterly prostrated. In the latter case, resignation is natural and proper, and therefore comparatively easy; but in the former case, while the other faculties of the body remain unimpaired, resignation to a life of indolent dependence, if not a sin, is certainly a grave error. At other times, Farmer Wilson, a hearty, jovial old fellow, who had never had a day's illness, or serious disappointment in his life, and who consequently knew very little about how people feel when they are ill, or have had all their hopes blighted at one stroke, would call in, and tell Roberts to keep up his spirits and not give way too much. Mrs. Collins, the landlady of the village inn, occasionally looked in, and by way of cheering the sufferer, would recount all the horrible accidents, painful illnesses, or sudden deaths she had ever seen or heard of during her life. But it never occurred to any one to suggest any rational amusement or employment by which a subsistence could be gained, or the time could be made to pass more pleasantly. Roberts had been a prudent, saving man, and had joined a club, besides saving sufficient money to purchase the cottage he lived in, and to have a few pounds still in the savings bank. But the time during which he could receive allowance from the club had nearly expired: his savings were not great, and when they were gone what was he to do? What was he to do? This question he asked himself a thousand times a day, but could find no answer to it. He shrank from the thought of receiving parish relief; but what was he to do? The poor man whose child he had saved from drowning was only a day labourer, and had a wife and seven young children to support; so that it was out of his power to render any material assistance to the deliverer of his child. But of an evening he would sometimes come in and do a little work in the garden, and would generally bring a few eggs in his pocket, as a little bit of a relish' for Roberts' breakfast. The other neighbours, too, were very thoughtful, and would assist in various little ways; but still the old question returned, What was to be done for a living? CHAPTER II. SHOWING THE POSSIBILITY OF DOING SOMETHING. WHEN matters had gone on as we have related for some months, it happened that Dr. S—, an eminent oculist from London, was staying on a visit with Mr. Jones, the surgeon who had attended Roberts from the commencement of his troubles. Mr. Jones told his friend of Roberts' case, and the two gentlemen drove out one day to see him. After carefully examining Roberts' eyes, Dr. S-gave it as his opinion that everything which offered any chance of success had already been tried, and that there was now no hope of recovering the sight. And what shall I do?' exclaimed Roberts, in a state of despair. My wife and children will starve, for I can't work, and we shall all have to go to the parish.' 'Have you tried any kind of work?' inquired Dr. S. There are a good many things that some blind people manage to do. Some learn to make mats, others baskets, and others brushes.' 'But I am sure I couldn't do anything of that sort. I can hardly find my way about the house!' After a good deal of conversation, the thoughtful physician, on ascertaining that Roberts had formerly been a cabinetmaker, observing that one of the bolts of the door was out of order for want of a few screws, suggested that while he and Mr. Jones made another call a little farther on, Roberts should endeavour to put in the screws and re-adjust the bolt. The poor man smiled incredulously, and shook his head mournfully; but the doctor urged the matter playfully, and at length left to make his visit. Roberts sat still for a good while, and then said to his wife, 'I suppose I must try.' 'I am sure, William, you had better not. You can't do it; and you will only cut your fingers.' 'As for cutting my fingers, Mary, that doesn't matter much; and I know that Dr. S will expect me to try. Go to my tool-box and find me a gimlet, a screw-driver, and two or three small screws, and I'll just make a try.' เ He did make a try, and succeeded too, though his wife, poor soul, was trembling all the time, and expected to see him lose every finger-tip he had. His success made him suddenly remember that a piece of one of the boards in the floor had given way; and he now conceived the bold design of attempting to repair it, by way of further proving what could be done!'-which was now said in a somewhat more cheerful tone. His wife was now sent for a chisel, and she brought him the bluntest one she could find, still trembling for his poor fingers. He soon discovered that the chisel would not do its work, and so his wife with great reluctance had to find him a sharper one. With this he speedily cleared away what remained of the old board; and happening to have some new board which just matched the old one, he set about cutting off the length he required. But here his trouble began; for when he had cut it off, he found he had not kept in a straight line, and that the board was nearly two inches too short at one end. This completely dispirited him, and he thought it was Do use trying any more; and his wife felt half glad, though she was too kind and considerate to say so. Just at this juncture the two medical men returned, and warmly congratulated Roberts upon his success so far. A consultation of all three was then held, as to the best means of keeping a straight line whilst sawing. After a good deal of talk, it was decided that Roberts should mark off the required length by a notch on each side of the board; and then, by laying another piece of board across, he managed to cut it tolerably straight. The nailing was a comparatively easy part; and when the job was done, all agreed that it was a complete success. เ And now,' said Dr. S―, shaking Roberts warmly by the hand, go on and try what you can do in this way. It is a rougher and easier kind of the same sort of work that you have been accustomed to, and I think you will be able to manage it very well. If I can discover that there are any tools invented which will be of use to you, I will write to my friend Mr. Jones, and he will let you know.' These exploits of Roberts' were soon noised through the village; and before the day was out, all the children, most of the women, and a good many of the men, had been in to see the work. All agreed that it was capitally done; but some looked wisely sceptical, and thought that Roberts couldn't have done it all himself. But while others only wondered and were stupidly astonished, Roberts thought seriously of the matter, and almost began to hope that he could do something. Next morning, long before his usual gettingup time, Roberts, who had scarcely slept all night for thinking of what he might perhaps be able to do, was up, and groping all round the kitchen and parlour, to see if anything was out of order. He was astonished that he could find his way about so well; he actually knew the dresser from the table, and could find out all the doors and windows in such a manner as he had never been able to do since the terrible darkness had fallen upon him. He discovered that one or two brackets wanted fixing, that the window fastening was a little out of order, and that one of the legs of the table was rather shaky. This, he thought, would give him another day's work; and not wishing to make a noise to disturb his wife, he sat down to enjoy the labour in prospect. Suddenly it occurred to him that he would try to light the fire, just as he used to do every morning before he went to work; and after spending a good deal of time in finding wood, coals, and matches, and after many unsuccessful attempts to light the paper, as the matches would go out before he could find the part of the stove where he had put it, he at length succeeded, to his great satisfaction. When his wife came down stairs, she was greatly astonished to find a good fire and the kettle singing, and wondered how in the world it had all come about. When Roberts told her, she thought that he was really getting too venturesome. She was sure that if he did so again he would burn his fingers, or set fire to the house. This new achievement excited no less wonder than the former ones had done; and during the day, several of the women slipped in to ask Mrs. Roberts' whether her good man had lit the fire that morning; for Mrs. Saunders or Mrs. Thomson had told her so, but she didn't think it could be true.' Meanwhile, Roberts was busying himself in doing the little repairs that he found were wanting; and things went on very well, until he came to put a screw or two in the window fastenings, when the screw-driver ill-naturedly slipped off the head of the screw, and went through the next pane of glass. 'My dear William,' exclaimed his wife, running to him in a state of great excitement, I know you will hurt yourself. I wish you wouldn't try, for I am sure it is no good.' 'I am afraid so too, Mary,' said her husband; and he sat down despondingly. Still he had to a great extent succeeded; so, after dinner, when his wife had gone out to take home a dress she had been making for Farmer Wilson's wife, he thought he would have another try at the window; and when he had got in all the screws, he managed with an old pocket-knife to cut away the putty, and remove the fragments of broken glass, ready for a new pane to be put in. And when Will Harris, who was a good hand at putting in windows, came in the evening, he declared that he couldn't have cleared away the old glass and putty better himself.' 6 By degrees Roberts went on in his carpentering work, until he had mended or re-made all the doors, shelves, etc., about the house that wanted anything done to them, and some that didn't particularly want any repairs, in order to get his hand accustomed to the work. About this time, the rector's eldest daughter, a blooming clever girl of about eighteen, came home from school, and thinking that Roberts must be very dull, she used to come in and read to him for an hour or so, two or three times a week. Sometimes she would bring down a volume of Longfellow's or Tennyson's poems, and sometimes Lord Macaulay's History, or Essays, and very often Roberts would enliven the reading, by giving his fair young visitor the benefit of what he had formerly read on the same or any similar subject; for he was an intelligent, thoughtful man, and had, when he could see, been a constant reader; so that these visits became every time more interesting and instructive, both to reader and hearer. As a consequence of this increased mental and manual occupation, Roberts' health and spirits rapidly improved; but still the old difficulty, as to what was to be done for a living, seemed as far from a satisfactory solution as ever. Their little stock of savings was becoming smaller and smaller every week; and although Mary worked very hard at the dressmaking,-a great deal too hard, indeed, for her cheeks grew paler, and she began to look old and careworn, as William gathered from the remarks of the neighbours who came in to see her, she could earn but little. Some friends suggested that he should apply to one of the pension funds for the blind, in London; and although he did not much like the | idea of receiving alms in any shape, he submitted, as there seemed to be no alternative at the present. But the replies he received from the first three or four that he tried, were in effect, that his was just such a case as the charity was intended to relieve; but that he would not be eligible for a pension until he was sixty years of age. From one society he found that he could receive a pension when forty years of age; but as he was only about thirty, this seemed to be as useless as the other; for how was he to live during the intervening ten years, even supposing he was successful in gaining the pension when he had become old enough? After a good many fruitless inquiries, he discovered that a large sum of money had been left by the late Charles Day, Esq., and that any one above twenty-one was eligible to receive the pensions distributed by the trustees. But on making an application, he found that, while only 270 could receive pensions, there were already more than 2500 applicants, whose cases had been approved of, but who could not receive assistance from want of funds. Although these attempts were quite unsuccessful, as far as gaining a pension was concerned, they were not without good results; for, in answer to one of Roberts' applications, he received a report containing some account of teaching the blind to read by means of embossed books. The thing seemed to him very difficult, if not incredible: still he felt interested, and very anxious to make an attempt to learn; and he and Mary would often talk the matter over with Miss Thornton, the rector's daughter, all wondering how ever it could be done. A month or two after, to Roberts' great joy, a blind gentleman came on a visit to the Manor House, and on hearing of Roberts' case he immediately offered to teach him to read. At first the letters seemed very difficult to feel; but in the course of two or three lessons they became easier, and in less than a fortnight Roberts was able to read, very slowly to be sure, two or three verses in the Bible. At this new accomplishment, the wonder of the villagers knew no bounds; and they all declared that Roberts was getting as clever as the parson, and indeed more so, for he always wanted candles on a winter's afternoon, when it got very dark in the church; and it was confidently asserted that Roberts had been overheard reading to himself without any candle or even firelight. Indeed, it seemed probable that if Roberts had lived in the good old time, when witches and their husbands were believed in, he would have been in some danger of being roughly treated for improper connection with the master of black arts. But, after a while, the wonderment passed off; and one or two of the children began to think that they could almost make out some of the large dots themselves. Roberts soon gained great facility in reading. But then came the difficulty of getting books; for he found, to his dismay, that the New Testament, printed in the system of reading which he had learnt, would cost fifty shillings, and the whole Bible about ten pounds; while in another system the whole Bible would cost more than twenty pounds. The gentleman who had taught him to read, on leaving the village, made him a present of the Gospel according to Matthew; and Roberts afterwards found that the British and Foreign Bible Society had very generously resolved to supply blind persons in needy circumstances with portions of the Bible, in some cases free, and others at cost price; and on making application through the rector, he obtained another of the Gospels, and a volume containing two or three of St. Paul's epistles; so that his wants, only to a limited extent, it is true, were for the present supplied. (To be continued.) M THE SPANISH BRIGAND: AN INCIDENT IN THE PRISON LIFE OF MATAMOROS. Y health (wrote Matamoros) began rapidly to deeline from the commencement of the third year of my captivity. I became so weak that I was unable even to walk across my room. I thought, as well as my friends, that the time of my departure was at hand; and I rejoiced in the near prospect of being with my Saviour. The director of the prison was so struck by my excessive weakness, that he offered me, in the governor's name, the services of any one of the other prisoners whom I might select, to act as my servant. I gladly accepted the proposal. 'Well,' said the jailor, 'whom do you choose?' 'Send me the greatest criminal you have,' I replied. There was then in the prison a young man of about twenty-eight years of age, who lay under the weight of many accusations, for two of which he was condemned to thirty-eight years of hard labour. He had been a brigand chief. Possessed of savage energy and intrepid courage, he had several times effectually beaten back the officers of justice sent to seize him. Such he had been, and such he still was in the prison. Every one feared him. Often had the jailors, as well as his companions in captivity, suffered from the effects of his brutal strength. Well, this was the man they gave me for a servant! No doubt the governor was glad to have him separated from the other prisoners. Whatever he was, I received him with joy, and felt moved with deep compassion towards him, when his history was related to me by the jailor. It was with pleasure on his side that he entered into my service, for in many ways his position was ameliorated. He enjoyed more liberty than heretofore, and also the privilege of receiving in my room the visits of his old father. Formerly he could only see him at a certain distance, and in presence of the jailor. Little by little, the respect which this unfortunate man had for me was changed into the warmest affection. Several times he said to my mother: Ah! madam, if I could set your son at liberty, by shutting up all the jailors in the dungeon, I would do it in a moment;' and I am persuaded he would have made the attempt, if I had not dissuaded him. When I better understood his character and disposition, I came to the conclusion that, notwithstanding his criminal and depraved life, his heart was still capable of certain noble and generous feelings. One day he said to me: 'If I had not had bad companions, I never would have robbed; but, urged on by cowards, who dared not act alone, I entered on this wicked path, and soon stealing became habitual to me. At the same time,' he added, with an expression of contentment, 'I have never robbed the poor, and neither my gun nor my poignard have ever shed blood. I was a brigand, certainly, but a brigand who can boast of having been so with honour.' Poor ignorant man! To me he communicated certain episodes of his history, which, had they come to the knowledge of the authorities, would undoubtedly have brought him to capital punishment. Thus by degrees I got thoroughly acquainted with the previous life of this man, and with the workings of his mind. One day, seeing me about to begin my customary morning services, he prepared to leave the room. I asked him to remain; he came and sat down beside me. I opened the Bible at the third chapter of St. John. Whilst I read, his face shone with a joy which went on increasing every moment. When I came to the 16th, 17th, and 18th verses, which I read slowly and emphatically, he became very much moved. Such a moment was not to be lost; so I read also the eighth chapter of Romans. We knelt down; and it was given me to pray with fervour and confidence for this man, for whom I already felt a warm affection. On rising from our knees, my companion was shedding tears abundantly. I do not think I ever spent a happier moment in my life, than that in which I saw this soul enter on the path of eternal life. I left him under this blessed impression. Later I asked him, 'What did you think of what we read this morning? of what God himself says to us?' 'Ah! Don Manuel,' he replied, "if I had been able to read, I would have known all these things, and I would not have been a criminal. It is very beautiful; I will never forget it. Oh, if I only knew how to read, I would not be so miserable!' 'Well,' I asked, 'how would you like me to teach you to read? would you like to begin?' 'Yes, yes!' he said, with an expression of the most lively joy, and with the energy which characterized him. 'Oh yes; you are truly a father to me. Oh, teach me, and God will reward you!' Well,' I replied, 'the reality of your desire will be proved by your application.' I gave him money to purchase a first spellingbook, and the same day he had the book in his pocket. We began immediately; and from that moment he seized every opportunity for learning, often applying for assistance to those among the prisoners who were able to read. Thus he spent the greater part of the day. His progress was very rapid; and in about six weeks he could read tolerably. He continued to join me in reading the word of God every morning; and he experienced great joy in being permitted to be present at several religious meetings which took place in my cell during my imprisonment. From day to day his peace became more complete. He troubled himself no more with planning means of escape, for now he was entirely submissive to the will of God. Our intercourse became more and more brotherly and Christian. I felt happy in the society of this man. His love extended also to all the other prisoners. He spoke to me with interest of them all. He knew their wants; and his greatest joy was to be able to render them some little service. Often I saw him reading portions of the New Testament to his companions. He distributed also all the tracts which I possessed; and I am sure that his conduct, in which prudence and firmness were equally blended, must have had a beneficial effect on those around him. I was most rigorously forbidden to speak to any of the other prisoners; but he was very happy when he could act as the messenger between them and me, carrying them some little comfort or tract, which he gave saying, 'This is what Don Manuel sends you in the name of the Lord.' Thus every day he made progress in the path which leads to eternal life; and the increasing peace which he enjoyed shone brightly on his face. One day Mr. Green, an English gentleman who has long taken a deep interest in the evangelization of Spain, came to visit me. He is one of the best friends Spanish prisoners ever had; and he came to my cell to offer me the comfort of his brotherly love. During the day he spent with me, he had a good opportunity of observing the behaviour of my servant, whose life and circumstances I had related to him. Much in- | terested by what I told him, Mr. Green asked him, 'How do you like the prospect of spending thirty-five years in hard labour in the galleys?' Ah! sir,' my poor friend answered, 'what are thirty-five years to a man who was condemned CHRISTIANITY AND RELIGION, Wounded too often in the house of its friends, nauseates, it would sometimes seem, the men of broadest sympathies and of delicate tastes! We acknowledge the stumbling-block, but still throw back the responsibility on the objector, too often himself a worse transgressor. If Christianity shares this reproach,—and we do not deny it,-it shares it rather through the nature it seeks to purify; while, with the mystery and the weakness which attach to man's moral condition here, it provides alone the remedy. But are there what can be fairly regarded as remedial results-a process of recovery -issues of practical value, and a reasonable confidence for the future? I had intended going at some length into this, a most interesting part of the inquiry. I know no argument more assuring to faith than the fruit of Christian truth in the regeneration of fallen man; and if the argument fails to impress the world, it is because From Mr. Guthrie's useful, pointed, and well-timed Lecture, 'Christianity and Natural Science.' | to an eternity of woe? Before I became acquainted with Don Manuel, I only thought of how I could escape from prison; and to attain my object, I would even have shed blood. I lived in despair. But all this is changed now. I know that Jesus Christ has come to save sinners; that by his merits my sins are forgiven; that my past life can no longer condemn me, since Jesus is my Advocate. Therefore I go to the galleys peacefully and happily, for I feel assured of the salvation which Jesus has purchased for me; and I shall rejoice when He calls me to leave this world.' It is impossible for me to express the joy and the emotion of my dear friend Mr. Green on hearing my companion thus speak. From that time he took a deep interest in him, and recommended him to God in his prayers. The time at last came for my companion to leave the prison and go to the galleys. He shed abundant tears on leaving me, and said, ‘I regret very much to be separated from you; but let us comfort ourselves in thinking of Jesus. He never leaves us; and the love of God towards us is unchangeable. We will meet again in his presence.' 'Yes,' I replied, 'let us be faithful unto death, and He will give us the crown of life.' This is the friend which the Lord gave me in my captivity,-one of the many consolations which He has granted me. The remembrance of this man, who was, when he entered my prison, only a vile criminal, is now dear and precious to me. Oh, how touching is this manifestation of the great love of God towards sinners! Of every soul, where sin still reigns, He can make a temple of the Holy Ghost; and the criminal, even the most degraded, can thus be transformed into the image of our God and Saviour. NATURAL SCIENCE.* the nature of the triumph is above its perception. There is too great a tendency in our day to accommodate the proof to the genius of sceptical inquiry; and instead of man being brought into vealed in the gospel of Christ, we are fascinated direct contact with the power of grace, as rewith some pleasing description of the general effects of Christian truth on society around us! We reject this evidence as a fatal compromise. It is a result of Christian truth, but not the result which stamps its divinity. It touches a remote point,-if the expression is allowable, it is a diluted manifestation which will not offend certain sensibilities, or reprove the world's Christian profession. The gospel of Christ is thus brought to the whole, who have no need of a physician. We do not accept the evidence; but in those fallen specimens of humanity restored, in those sin-sick souls recovered, we claim the legitimate, the true evidence of the gospel of Christ: 'I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance;' and as it fulfils this end, it confirms the truth of his mission, and meets the wants of humanity. |