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“ IP GOD REVEAL ANY THING TO YOU BY ANY OTHER INSTRUMEXT OP HIS, BE AS READY TO
Castle of Saint Angelo, the, 659, 715. Landor, Walter Savage, 670.
117, 180, 249, 308, 372, 439, 496, Life, on the Method of, 129.
London Missionary Society, a word
Early Fathers, the right use of the, 53,
My Congregation and I; Passages from
One of the Forgotten Dead, 148, 201.
Flies, a Chapter on, 592.
Pew Rents—another Testimony, 113
Politics of Dissenters, the, 257.
A Prayer for the Troubled, 114.
Jacob's Dream, 178.
Prayer, an encouragement to, 167.
Preaching to the Poor, 194.
Students and Colleges, 587.
Real, the, and the Ideal, 328.
Revision of the English Bible, 698.
Revival, the American, 283.
Responsibility for the Moral Condition
of others, 772.
Retrospect, Monthly, 123, 188, 315, 503,
670, 633, 693, 790.
Robertson's Sermons, 445.
Russian Church, the Old Believers of
the, 643, 755.
Sermons on Public Worship, 470.
Sinlessness of Jesus, the, 726.
Warrington, George ; or, Where shall
he go to? 1, 69, 135, 208.
Woman's, a, Thoughts about Women,
Xavier and Domenech, Priests of the
Past and Present, 628.
CHRISTIAN SPECTATOR. .
George Starrington ; or, Where shall be go to ? ?
IN FOUR CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER It was the afternoon before Christmas-day, in a year which must not be more nearly designated than by saying it was in the present century, and among the forties or fifties. The curtains were drawn ; there was a cheerful fire burning in the grate, and burning so briskly, and with so blue a flame, as to indicate the clear frosty weather which,
when we were boys,' we always looked for at Christmas. The evening lamp, however, remained unlit, and so the room was in that delicious parlour-twilight, or domestic gloaming, so favourable to peaceful and tender musings, and home-feelings of every kind, while a sense of vagueness and mystery steals over one as the shadows flickering on the walls seem to intimate the nearness of the spiritworld.
Mr. Spencer was sitting in a low easy chair, almost afraid to move, lest he should waken his youngest child, who, after romping with him, as a four-year old darling may, and taking liberties with Papa' which men in the outside world would have looked at with amazement, was now fast asleep in the deepest rosiest sleep imaginable, little dreaming of the eyes that were fixed on her, much less of the paternal feelings which, all alive in that evening hour, were vainly trying to picture the possible future of the dear one that lay in his arms. Mrs. Spencer sat watching her husband and child, and, as a mother lives in a world or sanctuary of her own, into only the forecourt of which it would be possible for even the tenderest of husbands to enter, she, too, had thoughts which cannot be put into words. From her youngest