out the window of his parents' room on the first floor, and that of the little closet where he had spent so many nights at work.

When he wronged any one he was eager to make the proper apology. A tailor, as he thought, overcharged him for his cloth. In a quarrel with him he used the word "cheating." The honest tailor, much wounded, disdained to accept anything for his work, and left him. Soon thereafter he said: "Wilkens, this man is right, and I owe him an apology. Let us go to him at once."

Liberal to the poor to a fault, he was frugal. He would pick up a button or a pin, and wear thread-bare clothes. Wilkens said one day :

"The sleeves of Herr Counsellor are so worn that the white lining shows."

"You have only to put a little ink on it and it will not be seen."

"But, Herr Counsellor, that would look odd."

"Odd! does it hurt anybody? Has any one a right to prevent me?" By this time he showed signs of anger.

He had an utter contempt for Mrs. Grundy, as we Americans call a certain snobbish dread of public gossip or opinion. The late dinners of the family providing for him, kept him from some evening amusements. He advised Wilkens that they would all eat at the same time and table.

"What will the world think?" replied the punctilious Wilkens, "when it hears that the Counsellor dines with his servants?"

"The world! the world!" exclaimed the indignant Dane. "There you are again with your world! Have I not told you a thousand times that I care nothing for what it thinks about such matters? Am I not free to live as I please? And besides, Wilkens, I consider that you are quite as good at your business as I am at mine."

He had tender, fine social feelings, but was infirm or unfortunate in his love affairs. His childlike nature would have found a heaven with a house full of children-in a home hallowed by the loving heart of a wife. His love alliances were short and sharp. In some of which his conduct is not stainless.

Perhaps he was disposed to treat love matters lightly. In his profession he had much to do with the god of Love. He represents him with his arrow-making mischief in the hearts of other people. He used to say: "I am going to busy myself about Cupid's little affairs. The mischievous boy pulls me by the sleeve: I must give it a shake to get rid of him.' The poor man could not always shake him off so readily. Perhaps it arose from his never having tasted of the Fountain of Divine Love.

His biographers are singularly silent about his religious belier

and hope. He is called a Protestant over against the Catholics, and a Lutheran, as all Protestants in Denmark are.

Henry Ward Beecher says his organist sometimes unburdens his heart in prayer on the piano or organ, sending his prayers to heaven on wings of melody. And the Brooklyn genius seems to applaud his praying symphonies. Possibly some might hold that Thorwalsden's Christand His Apostles, are his prayers cut in stone. Grand aspirations and thoughts he must have had. Possibly faith in Christ, too, such as it was.

"Thorwalsden had been educated in the Lutheran faith; he lived at Rome in an atmosphere of Catholicism, at a time of great political agitation, and when, as it is well known, all beliefs were shaken. The mind of the artist was affected by these uncertainties, and the result was indifference. A friend once remarked to him that his want of religious faith must make it difficult for him to express Christian ideas in bis works. He replied: 'If I were altogether an unbeliever, why should that give me any trouble? Have I not represented pagan divinities ?--stil, I don't be'ieve in them."

FOR THE SAKE OF PEACE.

Rob and I were playmates once,
Together used to laugh and cry;
A youth and maiden are we now-
Oh dear, the years so swiftly fly!
We used to play at lovers, too,

When we were children gay and free;
And now, the rogue, he quite insists
That he should still-my lover be.

I really can't make up my mind
To quarrel wi h the foolish boy,
For maybe, if he went away,

My life would lose one half its joy.
And if the question I should try

To argue with him, why, you see,
In argument, e'en when a child,

Rob always got the best of me.

So now what would you really do?
Rob has a word of all I say;

And, after all, my heart inclines
To let him have his own dear way.
Oh, how persistent men can be!
What can a timid maiden do?

I think, just for the sake of peace,
I'd better yield the point-don't you?

Harper's Weekly.

"TOM PAINE."

When Thomas Paine submitted part of the manuscript of his Age of Reason to Dr. Franklin, the sage, who was by no means a professing Christian, returned it with this reply: "I advise you not to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other person, whereby you will save yourself a great deal of mortification from the enemies it may raise you, and perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked with religion, what would they be without it?"

Seven or eight years afterward, in 1802, Paine wrote to an infidel friend: "I am sorry that work ever went to press. I wrote it more for my own amusement, and to see what I could do, than with any design of benefiting the world. I would give worlds, had I them at command, had the Age of Reason never been published. It can never do the world any good, and its sarcastic style will, doubtless, lead thousands to esteem lightly the only book of correct morals that has ever blessed the world." But he had "unchained the tiger." If Paine's publisher had been as faithful to him as was Dr. Franklin, the most sensational infidel book of the last century had never seen the light. But the publishers of its successive editions in many lands have multiplied the brood of the tiger indefinitely. There are even yet a few low shops from which this most scandalous type of anti Christian books is issued. Respectable houses will not touch a class of publications which are only one grade above the obscene stuff which is contraband of law and of common decency.

MARTIN LUTHER ON MUSIC.

Music is a noble and divine endowment and gift, that is utterly at war with the devil, and one might therewith drive off many tentationes and cogitationes. For the devil can hardly abide music. Music is one of the best of the arts. The notes quicken the text into life. Some of our nobles and scrapejacks think they could have saved my most gracious lord 3000 guilders in music. On the other hand they would spend 30,000 to no end.

Kings, princes and lords must cherish music, for it behooveth great potentates and rulers to uphold good free arts as well as laws; for private, common people have not the means to do that, however much they may delight in them and love them. Duke George of Hesse, and Duke Frederick of Saxony, kept singers and chantories; the Duke of Bavaria, King Ferdinand, and Kaiser Carl do so now. Therefore do we read in the Bible that devout kings sustained and rewarded men singers and women singers. Music is the best cordial for a man in trouble, wherewith his heart may be quieted, enlivened, and refreshed again. Music I have always loved. He that is master in this art is of a good sort, and equal to anything. Music must needs be kept up in the schools. A school-master must be able to sing, else I make no account of him. The young folks should be continually exercised in this art, for it makes fine, clever people of them. Whoso despiseth music, as do the fanatics (the Anabaptists and their like), I am at odds with him. For music is a gift and endowment that comes from God, not of man. Therefore doeth it drive away the devil, and maketh the people joyful; therewith are forgotten wrath, unchastity, pride, and other vices. Next to theology, I give music the nearest place and the highest honor, and it is to be seen how David and all the saints put their devout thoughts into verse, rhyme and song, quia pacis tempore regnat musica.

ABOUT ONE'S SELF.

A pleasant old story tells about a clock that stopped one night, in alarm at the thought of the number of times it must tick in a series of years. But on reflecting that it was obliged to tick only once each second, it concluded to take a fresh start. Anybody may well be alarmed at the wonderful structure of his own body, and its many parts, any one of which, if disordered, may cause

death.

Supposing your age to be fifteen or thereabouts, we can figure you up to a dot. You have 160 bones and 1000 muscles; your heart is five inches in length and three inches in diameter; it beats 70 times a minute, 4200 times an hour, 100,800 times a day, and 25,000,000 times a year. At each beat a little over two ounces of blood is thrown out of it, and each day it throws out and discharges seven tons of this wonderful fluid.

Your lungs will contain about a gallon of air, and you inhale 23,000 gallons a day. The aggregate surface of your lungs, supposing them to be spread out, exceeds 20,000 square inches. The weight of your brain is three pounds, when you become a man it will be eight ounces more.

The Sunday- School Drawer.

THE "Three-penny-bit at the Missionary Meeting," forms the subject of a somewhat humorous but very suggestive article by an English writer, who is quoted by the Primitive Methodist. One or two extracts may be appreciated, such as the following: "Within ken of my knowledge is a certain chapel, in a certain village, with a certain respectable congregation. The attendance at the annual missionary meeting would probably average from a hundred to a hundred and twenty. An analysis of the collection the year before last resulted in the discovery of seventy-eight tenpenny-bits; while last year there were eighty-four of these small fry in the boxes. Ever since then, my former contempt for this diminutive coin has been rebuked, and I have thought I saw written on it that celebrated millennial inscription, 'Holiness unto the Lord.' There is no mistake but that the three-pennybit may read out a salutary lesson to many of its older and bigger brothers belonging to the coin of the realm. How seldom do we hear a hundred pound check say, 'I was glad when they said unto me. Let us go into the house of the Lord! We have sometimes seen such a thing in a professing household, as an invalid daughter, who was not of much use to help in domestic duties, regularly attending the week day services as a sort of scapegoat for the non-attendance of all the rest. On the same grounds, perhaps, the threepenny piece is made to fulfill its high mission by having to move in the same pious groove. It is too small to fetch a flitch of bacon; it is too weak to bring home a sack of flour; it is no use to pay half-a-year's rent; so it is solemnly and sacredly set apart to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty."

KINDNESS NOT FORGOTTEN.-Once there was a boy who was born in Eng and, and was bound out as an apprentice near Newark, N. J. He is now a man, and the other day while riding out with a friend, pointing to a gateway, he said: "When a boy on this place, I opened that gate to let a gentleman on horseback go through. He threw me a silver sixpence. It dropped in the dust, and I could not find it. He saw I had lost it, came back, got off his horse, and helped me to find it. I have since saved that gentleman from failing in business three times, and all because of his giving me and helping me find that six and a quarter cents." The boy s name was Cornelius Walsh, one of the candidates for Governor of New Jersey.

THE Christian Advocate says: "Commend us to that Baptist brother who, on going into the water to be baptized, replied to the suggestion that he had better take his pocket-book out of his pocket during the ordinance, No, I want my pocket book baptized with me.'"

"A PRESBYTERIAN minister of a Western town was once accosted at a fair of his church, where some of these expedients were in full blast, by no less a personage than the well-known Dean Richmond (afterwards President of the New York Central Railroad, but then known to be a habitue of the