boy; he
had often stolen little articles, but now he was learning about God, and
he knew that God had said "Thou shalt not steal." As he stood looking at
the skates this commandment came into his mind, and there was a struggle
in his heart. His old bad nature said, "Take the skates;" his conscience
answered, "No, for it is wrong to steal." At last he made the signs,
"steal, bad, not" (he was seen, though he did not know it), and went on
without taking them. He had gained a great victory over the temptation
of the devil, and the next time he was so tempted the fight was not so
severe, as sin had less power over him.

THE QUEEN AND THE DEAF AND DUMB.

Not far from Osborne House, Isle of Wight, there lives a poor man in a
small cottage, who a few years ago had a deaf and dumb daughter, who
used to do a great deal of knitting for the Queen. Her Majesty
frequently visited this woman, and used to talk to her on her fingers.
The deaf and dumb woman is now dead, and during her illness the Queen
visited her and talked to her for her comfort. Her Majesty apologised
that she could not now talk so fast as when she was young.

EXAMPLE.

Vauncey, a little deaf and dumb boy, was admitted to the Institution, at
Derby, and night and morning he would watch with keen interest the other
boys kneeling at the bed-side, and spelling on their fingers their
prayers. In a few days the little boy learnt the alphabet, and the head
master on going upstairs to look round, was surprised to see him
kneeling reverently by his bed-side, eyes closed, and spelling on his
fingers the alphabet right through. A strange prayer, the reader will
think; but not so to our Heavenly Father, who doubtless would accept it
as the poor boy's best offering.

[Illustration]

THE CONVERTED MUTE.

During a revival of religion in one of the New England villages, a son
of the clergyman returned home for a brief visit. The lad was a deaf
mute, and had spent his first term in the Deaf and Dumb Institution,
just then commencing its history. His parents having no knowledge of the
language of signs, and the boy being an imperfect writer, it was almost
impossible to interchange with him any but the most familiar ideas. He,
therefore, heard nothing of the revival. But before he had been at home
many days, he began to manifest signs of anxiety, and at length wrote
with much labour upon his slate, "Father, what must I do to be saved?"
His father wrote in re