The Thistle and the Ropewalk.
“Such a mite as I can do no good,” is the general impression of our boys and girls, when they are urged to do what they can for the good work. But smaller, humbler instruments than you God has made use of to do great works in this world. A great army, many years ago, invaded Scotland. They crept on stealthily over the border, and prepared to make a night attack on the Scottish forces. There lay the camp, all silently in the star-light, never dreaming that danger was so near. The Danes, to make their advance more noiseless, came forward barefooted. But as they neared the sleeping Scots, one unlucky Dane brought his broad foot down squarely on a bristling thistle. A roar of pain was the consequence, which rang like a trumpet-blast through the sleeping camp. In a moment each soldier had grasped his weapon, and the Danes were thoroughly routed. The thistle was from that time the national emblem of Scotland. By the harbor of New-London there was once a long, old rope-walk, with a row of square window-holes fronting the water. In time of war, a British admiral was cruising off that coast, and had a very good chance to enter and destroy the town. He was once asked afterward why he did not do it. He replied that he should have done so “if it hadn’t been for that formidable long fort, whose guns entirely commanded the harbor.” He had been scared off by the poor old rope-walk. God has his uses for even the simplest and humblest of us. Our great business should be to find out what the Lord would have us to do, and then do it with all our might, mind, and strength.—Exchange.