66 of the most celebrated known to exist have changed hands from time to time under strange and romantic circumstances. One of the largest diamonds known is that of the Rajah of Mattun, in Borneo, which weighs nearly two ounces and a half; that of the Sultan of Turkey weighs two ounces; one in the Russian sceptre more than an ounce and a quarter. The greatest diameter of the last is one inch. The Empress Catherine II. purchased it in the year 1772 from Amsterdam, and for it was paid £75,000 and an annuity of £650. A diamond exists in the Australian regalia which weighs one ounce. One of the most perfect is that known as the "Pitt or Regency Diamond." It was bought from an Englishman named Pitt during the minority of Louis XIV. as an ornament for the French crown. The sum of £130,000 was given for the treasure, but it has since been valued at half a million. It continued in the possession of Louis XIV. and the succeeding monarchs, by whom it was worn on State occasions. After the Revolution it was still preserved among the State jewels, and the first Napoleon, on his accession to power, used it as an ornament in the hilt of his sword. The sword was found, with other personal effects of the Emperor, on the field of Waterloo by the Prussians after the battle, and was presented to the King of Prussia, in whose possession it has since remained. One of the stones most renowned in the East is the Koh-i-noor, or Mountain of Light. It is said by the Hindoos to have been discovered in the mines of Golconda more than three thousand years ago, and to have been originally in the possession of Kama, King of Anga. Another version states that it was stolen from one of the kings of Golconda by a treacherous general named Mininrola, and presented by him to the Great Mogul, Shah Jehan, the father of Aurungzebe, about the year 1640. It was then rough and uncut, and about twice its present size; but Shah Jehan gave it to a diamond-worker, who cut it so badly that he wasted half of it, and did not display its lustre to good advantage. The Mogul-who was exceedingly indignant-instead of paying the jeweller for his work, fined him ten thousand ducats. About two hundred years ago, Tavernier, the French traveller, saw the Koh-i-noor in India, and described the admiration and amazement it always excited. From that time until it came into the possession of the Khan of Cabul, at the commencement of the present century, the Koh-i-noor changed hands very often. Runjeet Singh obtained it from the Khan in a mean and abominable way. He had heard that the Khan of Cabul had the finest and purest diamond ever seen, and he determined to possess it. The Khan was invited by the intending thief; he arrived at the court of his host with, not the diamond, but a clever imitation. Once in Runjeet Singh's power, that despot immediately demanded the gem. It was reluctantly given up, and sent to the Court jeweller's to be cut. Runjeet Singh soon received intelligence that the stone was comparatively worthless. He was so enraged at this, that he ordered the Khan's palace to be ransacked from top to bottom to find the missing treasure. At last a slave betrayed his master, and showed the diamond lying under a heap of ashes. Runjeet carried it off in triumph, and subsequently decked himself, and occasionally his horse, with its splendid brilliancy. When he died the gem passed into the hands of his successors; and in 1850, when we conquered the Punjaub, the Koh-i-noor was among the spoil. It was brought to England in the Meda, and presented to her Majesty the Queen by the East India Company. The Koh-i-noor was pronounced to be badly cut, and the Court jeweller entrusted it to a firm in Amsterdam to re-cut, a work that occupied the labours of thirty-eight days of twelve hours each. The late Duke of Wellington became an amateur diamond-cutter for this memorable occasion, and gave the first touch to the work. The wonderful stone was exhibited, re-cut, in 1862, and a model of it may be seen in the British Museum. It is valued at more than two millions of pounds sterling. If we took only the common mode of estimating the value, a perfect brilliant weighing half a pound would be worth £20,000,000. Some have stated that such a diamond exists among the royal treasures of Portugal as large as a hen's egg, but according to others this is only a topaz. OUR SUNDAY-SCHOOL ALBUM. BY ENOCH GRATTON. (Continued from page 106.) XIII. THE UNCONVERTED TEACHER. I hope HIS friend has often had his likeness taken, possibly We frankly admit that he has many excellences. He is sober, moderately intelligent, reliable, and punctual. He takes considerable interest in the school, attends the teachers' meeting, and generously supports the funds. Indeed, there are many things in his character and conduct to command esteem and confidence. But to him may be addressed the word Jesus addressed to that intelligent, upright, anxious young ruler who came to Him, asking this momentous question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life? Jesus beholding him loved him and said unto him, One thing thou lackest." So our friend has many things, but he has not yet chosen the " one thing needful." There was a time when the children of the poor had little chance of gaining secular knowledge except what they gained in the Sunday school. That time happily has gone by. Day-schools abound, and millions of children are now receiving the elements of a sound secular education. In the Sunday school of the present day all the time and strength we possess are demanded for other and higher instruction. The dayschool teachers of our land are doing a noble work, but the Sundayschool teachers have still large fields to cultivate and rich golden sheaves to gather for Christ. But for the right discharge of this work something more than knowledge and industry are needed. Men need a living and lofty trust in Jesus as their own Lord and Redeemer, a personal sorrow for sin, a deep compassion for perishing souls, an abiding baptism of the Holy Ghost, and a vivid sense of the realities of the unseen world. Now the friend to whose photograph I invite your attention knows little or nothing of all this experience. He may tell his scholars that prayer has power with God, but he never tested and proved that power. He may tell them of the joy of sin forgiven, but he never felt it. He may try to explain to them the Christians hope, but the explanation is cold and feeble, for that hope never thrilled his own heart. He may extol the love of Christ, but it will be like a blind man describing fair colours. I have had many a talk with this teacher about his strange position. I have told him that he was like a cook preparing food for others while his own soul was starving; like a signboard pointing others to a way along which he himself never walked ; like a bell calling others to church, but himself inwardly deaf to the Divine call; like the men who helped Noah to build the ark, but never entered into it themselves; like the keeper of vineyards whose own vineyard is neglected: in that vineyard the noxious weeds of unbelief and impenitence are growing. On the branches of his soul, the sour wild grapes of disobedience and stubbornness are found. No other quality, nor all other qualities combined, can take the place of real vital godliness. We must be born again; we must repent, believe, and obey for ourselves. The resistless power of John's testimony lay in this, that he could say, "That which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the word of life; for the life was manifested, and we have seen it and bear witness." The advice I have given to my friend has been not to give up his class, and leave the school, and fold his arms in sloth and sadness, but rather to go at once to Jesus, presenting himself as a living sacrifice; if he never did repent, never did pray and believe and cling to Him, to do so at once. I would not say go back into the world, but go forward, upward to Christ. If he never was inwardly cleansed and consecrated, he may be. So, dear readers, may you and I, and then there will be no need, there will be no wish, to leave the work. The scholars will no longer hear from our lips a cold, hesitating, and powerless utterance of Christian truth. Our testimony will be like that of the apostles, "We believe and therefore we speak." We speak, we teach, not because we are expected to teach, or accustomed to teach, not because it is respectable and proper to teach, but because we believe. The truth is in us-in the heart, and conscience, and memory-as a solemn burning conviction, as a thrilling and joyful experience, as a central and living force, urging and impelling us to speak to the young about the love of Jesus, the beauty of holiness, and the glory of heaven. During the last few years we have repeatedly seen and much admired the noble motto of a Sunday-school teacher-" My Class for Jesus." But before this motto can be acted upon with anything like genuine enthusiasm another motto must become ours, namely, "For to me to live is Christ." XIV. JOHN GOODFELLOW. THAT is the name of a noble little boy whose portrait I am delighted to have in my album. The clear light of his mind and the generous feelings of his heart shine out in an open winning face, beam brightly and steadily in his clear, bashful eyes. In his play he is cheerful, kindly, and brave. In his tasks at school he is plodding, earnest, and successful. At the examination, when that august and wonderful person, the inspector, comes, he is ready, right with his replies, and I have heard him answer questions which sorely perplexed the brains of scholars nearly twice his size and age. To his teachers he is respectful and obedient. At home I have every reason to believe that he is good-tempered, dutiful, and affectionate. I have had frequent opportunities of meeting him in a Boys' Bible Class, and have been much pleased with his attention to the lessons, his intelligent answers, and his excellent behaviour. He is really a goodfellow. tle speaks good words, is impelled by good feelings, is noted for good manners, performs good actions; he has a good name which is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour, rather than silver and gold. I have never seen a dark scowl upon his brow, nor have I seen his eyes flash with foolish and sinful passion; but I have often seen on his brow the clear pure stamp of trust, and in his eyes tears of love and grief while listening to the story of the Redeemer's Cross and anguish. Even a child is known by his doings, and this boy is known to be gentle, generous, and truthful. Words Though young, he has learned the luxury of doing good. worth wrote that "the child is father of the man," and I trust that from this child there will grow and spring a man of fearless purpose, pure affection, and noble endeavour; and that when he dies it may be said of him, "He was a good MAN." GATHERED LAMBS. EXTRACT FROM THE REPORT OF THE TULLAMORE (CANADA) T is our sorrowful duty to record the deaths of six out of arms of Jesus." Dear little Lottie was the first to go. She died June 10th, then followed, in quick succession, John and Minnie on the 12th, Harry and Annie on the 15th and 16th, and Sarah on the 21st. The deaths of the two eldest are such remarkable examples of the triumph of child faith in a living Redeemer, that they are well worth preserving for the encouragement of parents and teachers in bringing the children to Christ. We refer to them in the order of their age. me. Harry, addressing his cousin, Mary A. Lindsay, said: "I am going home to where Lottie, Johnny, and Minnie are.' ""Well," said his cousin, "you know, Harry, your ma said you must pray to God and ask Him to forgive your sins." "So I do," was the reply, "I pray morning and night, and at noon, too, and every other time in the day when I think about it." Then his cousin asked him, "Harry, who do you love best?" "I love Jesus best of all, there He is now, Mary Ann will you let me go now? Jesus is ready waiting for Then turning to his nurse, Mrs. Ford, "Won't you let me go, Mrs. Ford?" "No, Harry, we can't do without you yet a little while." 66 Well, I'd rather go now, but I suppose I must wait with patience," was his reply. He then sang: "There is a realm where Jesus reigns," "They'll sing their welcome home to me." Near midnight of the night he died, he was heard to cheer three times with boyish glee, and so loud that he was heard out on the street. His mother ran upstairs and asked him what he wanted. With an expression of unutterable delight, he said: "Our side has won, ma! our side has won!" These were his last words. Thank God our side has won,won the race, won the crown, won the inheritance incorruptible, won the company of the redeemed and of angels, won our Father's house where lambs of the upper fold shall ever be led by the Good Shepherd to fountains of living waters and into fields of fadeless green. Annie's departure was equally triumphant and peaceful, though she was naturally very retiring and gentle. "Tell pa and ma," she said, "and all my friends and cousins to meet me in heaven," and in a few minutes she had the rapturous experience of what she delighted to sing about while on earth, Sweeping through the gates, washed in the blood of the Lamb.” |