d she corrected him. He got so angry that he lost his temper
and spat in her face. She quietly took a handkerchief and wiped her
face. At the close of the lesson she asked him if he would walk home
with her when school was over. No, he said, he didn't want to speak to
her. He was not coming back to that old school any more. She asked if
he would let her walk along with him. No, he wouldn't. Well, she said,
she was sorry he was going, but if he would call at her house on
Tuesday morning and ring the front door bell, there would be a little
parcel waiting for him. She would not be at home herself, but if he
asked the servant he would receive it. He replied: "You can keep your
old parcel; I don't want it." However she thought he would be there.

By Tuesday morning the little fellow had got over his mad fit. He came
to the house and rang the door bell; the servant handed him the
parcel. When he opened it he found it contained a little vest, a
necktie, and, best of all, a note written by the teacher. She told him
how every night and every morning since he had been in her class she
had been praying for him. Now that he was going to leave her she
wanted him to remember that as long as she lived she would pray for
him, and she hoped he would grow up to be a good man.

Next morning the little fellow was in the drawing-room waiting to see
her before she came downstairs from her bedroom. She found him there
crying as if his heart would break. She asked him kindly what was the
trouble. "Oh," he said, "I have had no peace since I got your letter.
You have been so kind to me and I have been so unkind to you; I wish
you would forgive me." Said my friend, the Superintendent, "There are
about eighteen hundred children in the school, and there is not a
better boy among the whole of them."

Can we not do the same as that young lady did? Shall we not
reconsecrate ourselves now to God and to his service?

Had I the tongues of Greeks and Jews,
And nobler speech than angels use:
If love be absent, I am found
Like tinkling brass, an empty sound.

Were I inspired to preach and tell
All that is done in heaven and hell--
Or could my faith the world remove:
Still I am nothing without love.

Should I distribute all my store
To feed the hungry, clothe the poor
Or give my body to the flame,
To gain a martyr's glorious name:

If love to God and love to men
Be absent, all my hopes are vain;
Nor