dearest friends. "The Church that is at Babylon saluteth you, and so doth Marcus my son (1 Peter v. 13); and we find that the same Apostle, after his miraculous escape from prison, related in Acts xii. 12, goes at once "to the house of Mary the mother of John, whose surname was Mark." The whole account of this incident would lead to the belief that these people more than any in Jerusalem would rejoice at Peter's safety. In the same chapter we read how Barnabas and Paul returned from Jerusalem, when they had fulfilled their ministration, and took with them John, whose surname was Mark. The ministrations mentioned had come in the shape of money, which had been collected by the Christians at Antioch for the aid of their brethren at Jerusalem; and the account they must have given of the good work going on in this city may have made an impression on the mind of the nephew of Barnabas and induced him to follow his uncle on his perilous journey.

The three returned to Antioch, and from Antioch went to Paphos in Cyprus, with the intention of making a yet further journey. And here it seems that the heart of the younger Apostle failed him. The sacred narrative relates the incident without note or comment, simply stating that, "When Paul and his company loosed from Paphos they came to Perga in Pamphylia ; and John, departing from them, returned to Jerusalem.' Thus Mark drops out of the story, and it is some time before we again find his name mentioned. When it next occurs, it is as the subject of dispute between two great friends and fellow-labourers.

There is perhaps no more characteristic passage in the whole of the New Testament, nor one which shows more clearly the truth of the narrative.

The quarrel is described simply and graphically, with no attempt at explanation or excuse, and exhibits the Apostles not as beings removed to an insuperable distance from us, but as men "of like passions with ourselves." Mark had, it appears, gone again to Antioch; possibly he may have repented his former cowardice, and have asked his uncle to give him another trial, but of this we are left in some doubt. At any rate it is evident that Barnabas believed in his kinsman's good intentions and was anxious to put no obstacle in his way. "Some days after," we read in Acts. xv. 36-40, " Paul said unto Barnabas, Let us go again and visit our brethren in every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they do. And Barnabas determined to take with them John, whose surname was Mark. But Paul thought not good to take him with them, who departed from them from Pamphylia, and went not with them to the work. And the contention was so sharp between them that they parted asunder, one from the

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other; and so Barnabas took Mark and sailed unto Cyprus; and Paul chose Silas, and departed, being recommended by the brethren unto the grace of God."

It is our own impression, that in after days Paul felt that he had formed a hasty judgment of the character of Mark; and certainly the young man "who departed from them, and went not with them to the work," proved himself a good soldier of Jesus Christ and died a martyr in His cause.

During his first imprisonment in Rome, in Col. iv. 10, 11; Paul writes thus, "Aristarcus my fellow-prisoner saluteth you, and Marcus, sister's son to Barnabas (touching whom ye received commandment; if he come unto you, receive him). These only are my fellow-workers unto the kingdom of God, which have been a comfort unto me." And in the Epistle to Philemon, written about the same time, he again speaks of Mark as one of his "fellow-labourers." years afterwards, when Paul was awaiting death in a Roman prison, he begs Timothy to come shortly to him, for only Luke is with him, and adds, "Take Mark and bring him with thee; for he is profitable to me for the ministry."

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There seems to be an uncertainty, in some minds, as to whether the Mark whose story we have been relating was identical with the evangelist; but although the point cannot be decided with certainty, the evidence seems in favour of this view. The Gospel of St. Mark is believed to have been in a great measure dictated by St. Peter; and it is certain that John, whose surname was Mark, was intimately associated with that Apostle. The further tradition of his life and death, in which there is doubtless a good deal of truth, is as follows:

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Mark, who had been baptised by Peter, went to Rome with him and preached the faith in that city. Those who were converted by his means besought him to write an account of the life and death of our Lord, and he accordingly compiled the Gospel bearing his name from materials supplied him by St. Peter, who afterwards examined and approved the work.

Mark went afterwards, by Peter's desire, to Alexandria, where it is said "The Lord filled him with such grace, that all those who followed his lessons gained such perfection that they appeared for some time to exercise their religion without blame; still it was more by his example than his miracles that the multitude were attracted." He is said to have remained in Alexandria about twelve years, but at length fell a victim to popular fury in the reign of Nero.

It was not until after his death that legend became busy with the name of Mark, and that he was specially connected with the city of Venice. The explanation lies in the fact that the Venetians gained, in some way, possession of

the saint's body; and that circumstance was sufficient, in the Middle Ages, to give rise to whole volumes of legendary lore. We will relate the story as it stands as a curious mediæval rendering of what was probably a very simple incident.

In the year 470 two Venetian merchants went to Alexandria with a small squadron of ships for the purposes of trade. While there, by means of various gifts and promises, they prevailed upon the priests who had charge of the body of St. Mark to give them leave to take it to their own city. When they had drawn it from the tomb, it shed such a sweet savour over the whole surrounding neighbourhood that all the inhabitants marvelled.

While at sea, these merchants informed the sailors that they were bearing with them the body of the saint; and the passengers in one of the ships, getting wind of the matter, laughed the merchants to scorn, and declared that it was only the body of an Egyptian. Scarcely had they spoke than the vessel which bore it turned towards that in which these passengers sailed, and struck it a violent blow, so that they, looking upward, caught a glimpse of the saint, and were compelled to confess that it was in truth the evangelist with whom they were travelling.

Another night a storm of wind arose, and so thick a fog covered the waters that the squadron was at a loss how to proceed in safety. But, in the midst of their distress, St. Mark appeared to the monk who guarded his remains,

and bade him tell the sailors to unreef the sails, for they were near land. The order was obeyed, and the next day a town came within view.

Thus, amid wonders and marvels, the body of St. Mark was at length conveyed to Venice, where, it is said, a church was erected in his honour in 913. This edifice was destroyed by fire in 976, but it was afterwards rebuilt, and the main building completed in 1071. It was consecrated a few years later, probably by the Doge Vital Tallier.

This event was rendered memorable by one of those curious incidents which, even before the Reformation, scandalised thinking men, while it imposed on the ignorant and credulous. The body of St. Mark had undoubtedly perished in

the fire which had destroyed the first building; but to allow this fact to become generally known would fill the minds of all devout Venetians with horror, and considerably diminish the offerings given to the Church. What was therefore doubtless considered as a pious fraud was accordingly resolved upon. The people were informed that, by some unfortunate mischance, the exact spot of St. Mark's resting-place had been forgotten, and asked to unite in prayer to God for its discovery. The Venetians were filled with distress when they heard this news, and determined that no effort should be wanting on their part. A fast was ordained; and on the 25th of June, the day on which the newly-erected sanctuary was to be consecrated, it was arranged that the people should march thither in solemn procession, and there make their prayers and intercessions to the Divine Mercy for the recovery of their treasure.

When all were assembled and praying with great fervour, a slight shaking was seen in one of the marble pillars, and, as the congregation gazed with wonder and awe at the miracle, the column fell to the earth with a loud crash, and exposed to the view of the rejoicing people the chest of bronze in which the body of the evangelist was laid.

After this marvel, St. Mark was believed, more firmly than ever, to be the patron saint of Venice. The circumstances of the fast, and the finding of the body, were depicted in a mosaic on the north transept, where they may still be seen. And, as Doge after Doge added some ornament

to the sacred structure, and the cathedral grew in splendour and beauty, so also grew the curious and quaint traditions of St. Mark's power and the wonders he had worked for his devoted admirers.

It was said, indeed, that before the evangelist began his labours in Egypt, he had preached the Gospel in Aquileia, and that he was called from thence to Rome by the Apostle Peter. But, before he left, he went with the Bishop of Fermagoras to the marshes of Venice. "There were,' says the story, "at this period, some houses built upon a certain bank called Rialto, and the boat, being driven to the wind, was anchored in a marshy place, where St. Mark, snatched into ecstacy, heard the voice of an angel saying to him, "Peace be to thee, Mark; here shall thy body rest."

But it was only in connection with his cherished remains that miracles were wrought. Any believer who threw himself under his protection was sure to receive from him some good, and many are the instances on record in which he is said to have come to the aid of distressed persons. We relate but two of these tales. The first exhibits St. Mark as the reliever of a private individual the second as the saviour of the whole community.

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Some Venetian merchants who were travelling to Alexandria were overtaken at sea by stormy winds. So battered was their ship that they knew it could not long hold together, and they threw themselves with great speed into a boat, and cut the cordage. Almost directly after, the ship sank; but all made their escape save one man, who sank with it under the waves. As he felt the billows closing over him, he called aloud on St. Mark, and immediately a man of ancient and venerable appearance stood before him, surrounded with a halo of glory. In the next moment he found himself borne in safety to his companions in the boat. In gratitude for his deliverance he made a vow to receive baptism as soon as he reached Alexandria. But, in the pressure of business, he forgot his promise. Then St. Mark again appeared to him in a vision, and reproached him for his want of faith; and the man, conscience-stricken, performed his vow, and became a sincere believer.

The other story is still more fanciful :—

"On the 24th of December, 1340, there arose a terrible tempest of wind in the sea round Venice, and the waves rose to such a height that they threatened to destroy the city. A certain old man on this night had reached, with great difficulty, the Riva di San Marco, where he fastened his boat and waited for the wind to abate. As he remained watching the storm, he was accosted by a stranger, who asked him to row him over to San Georgo Maggiore, promising him ample payment.

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But,' said the boatman, how is it possible to go so far? We shall sink by the way.'

"However, the stranger urged the matter so strongly that the boatman was fain to give way and row him to the appointed place. Here the former got out of the boat, and told the man to wait. He soon returned with a younger companion, and they said-Now row towards San Nicoli di Lidi.' 'How can

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Nay,' answered the fisherman. one possibly go so far with one oar?'

But the unknown replied, 'Row bolder; for it shall be possible to thee, and thou shalt be well paid.'

"And at once the water grew so calm that they were able to reach this place also in safety. But here, to the boatman's astonishment, they were joined by a third stranger; and they now told him to row between the castles. Being come to the open sea, they beheld, approaching with such speed that it seemed to fly over the water, an enormous galley full of demons. Then the three men in the boat rose and made the sign of the cross, and immediately the galley and the ship vanished. The three strangers next ordered the boatman to land each of them separately at the place where he got into the boat. He did as desired; but when the last man was stepping out at San Marco, the boatman reminded him of his promise of payment. Thou art right,' he replied; go now to the Doge, and to the Procurator of St. Mark, and tell them what thou hast seen, for Venice would have been overwhelmed had it not been for us three. I am St. Mark the Evangelist, the protector of this city; the other is the brave knight, St. George; and he whom thou didst take out at Lidi is the holy Bishop, St. Nicholas. Say to the Doge and to the Procurator that they are to pay you, and tell them that the tempest arose because of a certain schoolmaster, dwelling in San Felici, who did sell his soul to the devil, and afterwards hanged himself.'

"But,' argued the fisherman, if I tell them this they will not believe me.'

"Show them this,' said St. Mark, taking a ring from his finger; and tell them, when they look in the sanctuary they will find it not.'

"The boatman did exactly as desired; and, when due search had been made, and it was known that the ring was indeed missing, all believed in the wonder. The fisherman was richly repaid, while a solemn procession was ordained, and thanks given to God and to the saints who had delivered Venice from destruction."

It may be thought from the legend above related that St. Mark was the real deity of the Venetians, and the church a temple erected in his honour. But this supposition is an injustice. The Venetians knew the truth, and it was

engraved in pictures and in writing on the walls of their great sanctuary.

The portico where unbaptised persons worshipped was adorned with paintings and Old Testament scenes; and over the main entrance of the choir was a mosaic representing St. Mark and the Virgin, both kneeling in worship before the Saviour, who is holding a book whereon can be read these words: "I am the Door; by Me, if any man enter in, he can be saved." Round the mosaic, also, are the words: "I am the Gate of Life; let those who are Mine, enter in by Me." Above this is engraved, "Who He was, and from whence He came, and at what price He redeemed thee, and gave thee all things, consider." Mr. Ruskin, who studied this sanctuary, says :"If the visitor finds he has time to explore the minor lateral chapels and cupolas, he could find in them the whole series of the New

the secrets of her councils or confined the victims of her policy; and when, in her last hour, she threw off all shame and all restraint, and the great square of the city became filled with the madness of the whole earth, be it remembered how much her sin was the greater because it was done in the face of the house of God, burning with the letters of the Law."

Truly the Venetians were a great people, and the sanctuary which they built in honour of their patron saint one of the most beautiful ever designed by man. And yet, although many devout and humble souls have doubtless found comfort here, there have been times when a few scattered people, worshipping in a desert wilderness, or a plain, unvarnished room, have paid more true devotion to their Creator than those assembled within these walls, consecrated by a gorgeous ritual, and blazing with ecclesiastical

Testament history, the events of the life of Christ, and the Apostolic miracles, in order; and, finally, the Book of Revelation. But if he only entered as often as the common people do at this hour-snatching a few moments before beginning the labour of the day, to offer up an ejaculatory prayer-and advanced but from the main entrance as far as the altar screen, all the splendour of the glittering nave and variegated dome, if they smote upon his heart as they might often do in contrast with his reed cabin among the shallows of the Lagoon, smote upon it only as they might proclaim the two great messagesChrist is risen,' and 'Christ shall come.' the sins of Venice," he continues, "whether in her palace or in her piazza, were done with her Bible in her hand. The walls on which its testimony was written were separated but by a few inches of marble from those which guarded

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decoration. And, as the mind's eye wanders over the page of history, and we think of Huguenots and Covenanters meeting for prayer in caves of the earth or deserted commons, or of Puritans keeping their Sabbath far away in the American deserts, we seem to realise more clearly the meaning of the words, that "God dwelleth not in temples made with hands, but that in every nation he that feareth God and worketh righteousness is accepted of Him." E. NEVILLE JOHNS.

[We are deeply sorry to inform our readers that this valuable contributor to GOLDEN HOURS has lately passed away from us. She was a young author of great promise. Had she been spared she would have given to us freely from the treasury of a thoughtful and highly-cultivated mind; but God has enlarged for her the sphere of action and of opportunity. We, who knew her, cannot think of her as called into the rest of heaven. so much as into its glorious activities. -ED.]

ET the English know! Well might the generous benefactor, a French gentleman and a Roman Catholic, say this, as he gave, one Christmas Day, £300 to cover the deficits in a purely English and Protestant work of charity in Paris-the work of sheltering and in many cases rescuing friendless English girls from the dangers and distresses which beset them in that city. Often, alas, do they find that the advertisements which have led them hither as governesses or milliners were a trap set for their ruin: that no contract signed in their own land is binding on their employers; that if they wish for Sunday rest they forfeit not wages only but also food; and that their food at all times is insufficient to sustain health and strength.

Yet to Paris flock yearly hundreds of young English girls, many of them the orphans of professional men, in the hope of earning a living by means of their one accomplishment, the English tongue-there, when bitter disappointment results, they are compelled to remain, for want of money to bring them back; and unless by a most rare chance a suitable occupation at once presents itself, they must sink into the deepest destitution, or into lives far worse than death. The work of Christian love to which we have alluded and which was initiated by Miss Leigh, is to help and provide for such; and, like almost every other Christian work wrought in God, it began in a very humble way. Little did the young English lady, when she spoke in words of sisterly kindness to the shop-girl who was serving her with gloves-or when in consequence of that conversation she invited several English shop-girls to a Sunday reading at her hotel imagine that the Mission Home in the Avenue Wagram, with its daily average of sixty inmates, would grow therefrom. But it happened one day, four years after the first such Sunday gathering, that a Scottish girl, destitute and friendless, took up her abode in an almost bare attic of a house in Paris. Her story was not the less sad for being common. She had come to Paris, through an agency office, as a governess, had found her occupation was to be the pasting together of cardboard album leaves and late at night to give a French lesson to her employer. Worse than all, it was a home where no young girl could reputably remain. So she left, sought in vain for honest work, parted with many of her clothes for bread, and at length took up her

abode in the aforesaid attic-friendless, hopeless, and nearly starving. There was a chest of drawers in the room, and opening one of these, she saw a soiled and crumpled paper; its contents had become almost untraceable, but the signature was legible: "One who cares for you," with the address of the lady who thus subscribed herself. It was one of the invitations sent by Miss Leigh to her first Bible reading.

The signature touched the girl's desolate heart; she made her way to the hotel named in the address, that she might tell her story to Miss Leigh. She was cared for; and this incident led to the opening of a home for girls in a small hired house. Hither came one day, a group of homeless English girls, pleading for admission; but, alas, the house was crowded; two only could be received. A few days later Miss Leigh was summoned to view a dead body, picked up from the Seine, whose only mark of identification was a paper in the pocket bearing her own name and address. The dead girl was

one of those unavoidably rejected at the Home; and this rejection had evidently severed her last thread of hope. Such an incident naturally incited Miss Leigh and her friends to greater efforts in their noble cause; and so it came to pass that the present large Mission Home, 77, Avenue Wagram, was built at a cost of £10,000, given of God within a few months, where, as we have said, the inmates average sixty-one at the present time. Here they remain till suitable occupation is found for them, or till it is arranged that they return to their friends. We need hardly say that they find in Miss Leigh and her fellow-workers truly Christian friends, and in their surroundings all the blessings of Christian family life.

Nor is this mission to our English sisters confined to the walls of the Home. Many a sad message of inquiry for some poor stray one is received there from the relatives and friends in England: "She went to Paris at such and such a time; we have not heard of her for months, for years can you help us to find her ?" and such appeals are never disregarded. Many wanderers have been traced by Miss Leigh, and found bravely struggling to lead an honest life, though with health broken by want and hearts broken by disappointment. They are succoured and helped according to their need. "If only friends would write to us," pleaded Miss Leigh, "before a girl makes her perilous venture in