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MY CHRISTMAS TEXT.

EAR CHILDREN,--I was preparing this afternoon to write you a few words of Christmas greeting, when I was suddenly interrupted, and I will tell you how it happened. The door of my room burst open, and there called out behind me a happy, eager little voice," See, auntie! here are lots and lots of toys for the poor little children that haven't any." I turned round, and there stood my nephew Bertie ; at least so I guessed, for all I could see was a great basket and a pair of bright eyes peeping through the handle. At first I was puzzled, but in a moment I remembered what it all meant.

Bertie and I had been enjoying a grand romp in his beautiful nursery, full of toys and treasures, last evening, till we were both tired out, and then he made me sit down with him, and begged for a story-" a true story of something you've seen to-day." As I looked round the pretty room, and at the bright, bonny boy, I could not help thinking what a different sight I had seen only an hour before. And I told Bertie about a dark, unfurnished room, where six or seven children were huddled together on the floor, left alone with no one to care for them or play with them; and I told him, too, how sad it made me feel to look at their pale, dull faces. Why didn't they have a game of toys ?" They had no toys, Bertie," I said. "Then why doesn't their mother get them some ?" I told Bertie that their mother had to work hard all day to get them food, and could not afford them money for playthings. "Not even pennies, auntie ?" he asked. The child looked very grave for a minute, but suddenly jumped up and said, "I wonder if they would know how to play with my toys; because, if they didn't, it would be no good." Before I could ask what would be no good, tea-time came, and our talk was over. DECEMBER, 1874.

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But Bertie did not forget it. He had a long whisper, he afterwards told me, with mamma this morning, and she gave him a whole half-holiday that they might go over his treasures together, and see what he could spare. This basketful was the result, and nowhere could a brighter, happier little face be seen counting over its heap of Christmas presents than was Bertie's, as he showed his "lots and lots of toys for the poor little children that haven't any." Pen and paper had to be put away, for the little man was all eager for his unknown friends to get their treasures; and these had to be taken at once, that he might hear how they were received.

And all the way down to the Westminster court, where the little children live, Bertie's joyous face was preaching me a sermon. I won't give you the sermon, but this was its text: "Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said, It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Don't lose this blessing; remember what good things you have, and see if you have not something to spare "for the poor little children that haven't any." I should need to know all about your circumstances before I could tell you exactly what you have to give; and perhaps you think, "I have no nice nursery, full of beautiful toys, like Bertie; I have hardly anything of my own, and certainly nothing to give away." But think a little. I never yet knew the child that had not many very precious gifts to spare. Kind looks and loving words and unselfish acts; don't you know how pleasant it is to receive these things from others? But Jesus says, to give them is "more blessed."

And I think this Christmas season should never pass without reminding all Christian children of the little ones in far-off lands who have never learnt your Christmas songs. There are millions in Africa, and

Asia and America, who know nothing of our Saviour, Christ the Lord. They have no Christian parents or loving teachers, no churches, nor schools nor Bibles. You never saw them in their heathen state, but you know just as much as little Bertie knew of his unseen friends, that they haven't any of these things. What can you spare for them? It was very pleasant to watch the smiles on the faces of the pale, grave children, when they found that Bertie's treasures were their own, "to do what they liked with," even though I knew that the playthings would soon be lost or broken, and that the poor children would often be so hungry and sad that no toys could amuse them. But how different it is with the treasures which God's servants long to carry to the heathen children, for they are the "unsearchable riches of Christ" which can make them good and happy and satisfied always. Then don't forget the little ones far away, who have none of these treasures, but give your pity, your prayers, and your help in sending them the blessed Christmas message.

Dear children, if you remember the words of my Christmas text, and learn for yourselves how true they are, I know you will have what I wish you all

A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS.

THE YORUBA MISSION.

XIV.- -"NOT IN VAIN IN THE LORD."

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HAT would become of the native Christians in Abeokuta when missionaries driven away? How anxiously their friends in England, and their exiled teachers in Lagos, asked this question! Reports were spread that the chiefs would