CHRIST IS OUR EMMANUEL 1. While performing life's duties. These are great and important, and of such a nature that they cannot be discharged without the presence of God. They may be irksome to the nature of those who give attention thereto, but, having divine assistance, they can pray, preach, teach, visit the sick, and distribute tracts, whether at home or abroad, whether opposed or encouraged by men. Those who strive to perform life's duties with a view of glorifying God may be assured that his presence shall go with them. They may be weak, but God is their strength. They may be nothing at all, but Christ is their all and in all. 2. In temptation. All who live godly will be tempted. It is impossible for them to be without temptations as long as the soul is in union with the body. These differ in kind and degree, and are presented in various ways. The good man cannot of himself resist them, but God is with him in the hour of temptation to comfort and console him, to strengthen and save him. Emmanuel knows the nature of all temptations, and will render needful help. "For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted." (Heb. ii. 18.) 3. In affliction. Believers, as well as the ungodly, suffer afflictions, which are often keen and protracted. The body is distorted, the mind perplexed, and the heart laden with sorrow. But, in the midst of this, consolation is derived from him who never leaves his people. When human efforts are of no avail-when earthly comforts fail-help may be obtained from on high. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of them all." (Ps. xxxiv. 19.) 4. In death. The hour of death has something in connection with it that is solemn and gloomy. Very few like to think of it, and if they could avoid it they would. But God is with his people in death. Some have experienced much more of the presence of the Highest when dying than they have during any former period. The valley may be dark, but God will illuminate it. The waves of Jordan may beat furiously against the frail bark, but there shall be a voice heard saying, "Peace be still," and there will be "a great calm." When death is rending the tabernacle of clay, Emmanuel will be present, and accompany the departed one into the New Jerusalem-" the city of the living God." Christian, take courage. Christ has not left you comfortless. When performing life's duties-when enduring temptation-when suffering affliction-yea, when dying, remember God is with thee. At all times and in all circumstances the righteous can sing, Christ is our " Emmanuel, God with us." HENRY GEORGE HIRD. WILD CHILDREN IN VICTORIA. (BY AN AUSTRALIAN REPORTER.) about PROBABLY but few cases exhibiting humanity in such an abnormal condition of life have come under the attention of the public of late years, presenting so many remarkable features, as does the brief history of two of the young inmates of the Ballarat Industrial Schools. How I first became acquainted with the case it will not interest the reader to know. I will therefore only premise what I have to write on the subject by stating that the information on which this narrative is founded had been fully authenticated. To commence the story at the beginning I shall have to take the reader back to the early part of the year 1867, which time the first of the occurrences I shall have to mention transpired. In January, 1867, at Eldorado, resided a farmer, by the name of James Gordon, who, with his wife and family, had settled down on an allotment in the agricultural area of Tarrawingee. Gordon was regarded as a steady industrious man. By birth he and his wife were both natives of the north of Ireland, and by religion were Presbyterians. Both were in the possession of all their faculties and generally healthy, as were also the three younger members of the family, two girls and a boy. The two elder children, Mary Jane and Anne Gordon (the former about eight years old, while the latter was a couple of years her junior), however, in this respect differed from the other members of the family. Though brought up as the rest of the children, neither of the elder girls was ever heard by their parents to articulate intelligible sounds. They spoke it is true, but in a gibberish which they seemed to understand themselves, and in which they were evidently able to communicate their ideas to each other, but beyond this their power of speech never extended. They were wild intractable children, and, but for a very firm control maintained over them by their father, would have taken to the bush in preference to leading a civilised life. In the early part of 1867 James Gordon, the father, showed signs of mental derangement, induced it is believed by an injury sustained to his head, and subsequently he had to be placed under restraint in the Beechworth gaol. From this time the two eldest Gordons began to exhibit unmistakable signs of distaste for all control, and on the slightest provocation would leave home, and remain away for a considerable time, subsisting as best they could in the bush on what they could pick up. The passion seems to have grown upon them, and as time advanced they became more and more intractable. In manner they more resembled wild animals than human creatures, and at last would seek by every means to avoid any persons who might visit the place, flying from them as though they were some monsters. In the whole characters of the children there seemed to be but one redeeming feature-their affection for each other. In this respect their conduct was remarkable, for while they would not associate with the other children, Mary and Anne were inseparable, and where the one went the other immediately followed. If the one secured any dainty, she instantly divided it fairly with her sister; and if either was offended, the one at once espoused the quarrel of the other. Matters went on in this way, the two girls becoming daily more unmanageable. The mother, at last becoming alarmed at their repeated wanderings, in July last sought the assistance of the police with a view of having the children sent to one of the industrial schools. On the 15th July the two children were brought up before Mr. A. C. Wells, P.M., at the Eldorado police court, charged with being neglected children, who had been found wandering about, their mother representing that she was unable to control them. When Mary Gordon, the parent of the children, was before the court, she told a pitiable tale of the life of the girls. The children, though the eldest was now eleven and the younger nine years of age, had never spoken in an intelligible language, and were almost wild. They were constantly away in the bush, “and,” added the mother, "they wander about and won't heed me at all." Constable Shoebridge, who had captured the children, told in few words how about a fortnight before he found them wandering in the bush at Tarrawingee. When he was searching for them he learned that they had been in a shepherd's hut helping themselves to bread and mutton during the owner's absence. When the girls were found they were quite wild, and as they had been two days and two nights in the bush, they were in a miserable condition. The constable, when pushed for a description of what they were like, said that they were more like aborigines than anything else. They were even worse, he thought, as when they saw anyone they ran away and hid themselves. To effect this, they climb trees like wild cats or creep into hollow logs like an opossum, and were more like animals than human beings in their behaviour. It was with difficulty they were captured, and it was not till two boys had actually run them down like a couple of kangaroos that they were made prisoners. As might be expected, their appearance was miserable. Their hair was matted, their skin foul, and their clothing a mere bundle of rags which would scarcely hold together. The bench, after hearing this evidence and that of a neighbouring farmer named Simpson committed the children to the Industrial School at Ballarat, where in due course they arrived on the evening of the 19th July last. During the journey from Eldorado to Ballarat, the utmost vigilance had to be observed by the constable over his charge to prevent them making their escape. Several times in the course of the journey one or the other made an attempt to get away, but finding that her sister was still a prisoner, decided to remain rather than go alone. When almost within the institution the elder girl'made a final attempt to get away, and but for the caution observed by the constable would have succeeded. They were, however, safely lodged in the school with some further difficulty, and left in charge of the matron and nurses. On first being introduced into the room, the two girls closely but hurriedly scrutinised the place, evidently with the object of discovering some means of egress. Failing to find this, the younger girl darted off and crawled under a chair, while the elder crouched into the vacant fire place, and from that position glared defiantly at any one who came near her. In vain every inducement was held out to them to speak or to look up. Like a couple of wild animals they fled from every one who approached them, their only desire apparently being to make their escape. Food was offered them, but they refused to eat while any one was in the room, darting under tables, forms, or any shelter to get out of sight. Immediately, however, they were left alone they devoured the food with avidity. Indeed they seemed ravenous, and tore the meat with their hands and teeth as though they had not tasted food for a long period. For weeks this state of things continued, but kindness and association with other children soon began to work wonders. The Gordons when they arrived were in a filthy condition, their hair dishevelled and entangled, and their skins begrimed with the dirt of months. This state of things was soon altered; but, as the young Gordons had not the slightest notion of personal cleanliness, the work of keeping them presentable was no easy matter. Everything about the place seemed strange to the children and the most simple thing either excited their curiosity or fear. By degrees they became more familiarised with their new mode of life, but, strange to relate, made no effort to speak intelligibly. Occasionally, when alone, they were heard speaking in gibberish, but the moment a stranger entered the room where they were they relapsed into sullen silence, and no inducement could prevail upon them to utter another syllable. In due course the children were submitted to the inspection of Dr. Bruce, and that gentleman, after a careful examination, pronounced that there was nothing unnatural to be observed about their tongues, nor could he assign any reason for their not speaking as well as any other child. This fact, taken in connection with the mother's statement that she had tried to teach them to talk in a proper manner, but that she never heard them say anything that she could understand, makes the case one of the most remarkable that has occurred in modern times. A few weeks in the schools wrought a won drous change in the demeanour of the children, both of whom became somewhat docile. In the presence of those they knew, they were in a measure easy, and would even take their food with the other children of the institution, all of whom evinced the most lively interest in the new comers. The manifestations of fear were now reserved for strangers, the appearance of whom at once put both girls to flight, and no persuasion could ever induce them to come out of their hiding places voluntarily till the exciting cause of their fear was removed. With judicious management the Gordons daily improved both in appearance and manners, and though the progress was but slow, it was plainly perceptible. Gradually fear seemed to give place to curiosity, which in its turn led the subjects of my narrative to associate with the other children of the school, and six weeks from the time of their admission both the girls would associate pretty freely with the other inmates of the school, and even assist them in the duties they had to perform. In both the faculty of imitation seemed to be largely developed, while originality was evidently at a minimum; and therefore the children seemed impelled to attempt whatever they saw others doing, and in most instances they did it fairly on the first attempt. As the girls gradually became more civilised they indicated a very affectionate disposition towards everyone, clinging especially to those from whom they had received kindness. Thus the matron, Miss Wilson, and the school teacher, Miss Johnstone, both speedily became favourites with the Gordons, who in every way except by speech testified their affection for their guardians. With the development of these more natural feelings much of the wildness disappeared, and all idea of leaving the place was evidently soon abandoned. The two girls were allowed the free run of the institution, even to the matron's quarters, a spot in which they spent much of their time, watching some caged birds or curiously examining the articles of furniture. Honest in every sense of the word, and careful to a degree, they did no mischief, and gave no trouble save when they could lay hands on a bell. This was a never-failing source of pleasure, and the clamour which to others was almost torture, to them was evidently the sweetest melody. This and the piano supplied them with their greatest enjoyment. While thus undergoing the process of civilization, the two Gordons showed unmistakably that their intellects were expanding, and though it was with even more than infantile difficulty, they gradually accumulated a small vocabulary. Limited to a degree it certainly was, but still it was used intelligently, and in a way which augured well for further advancement. Anne, the youngest sister, under the tuition of Miss Johnstone, mastered the mysteries of the alphabet, all but S, which to both sisters is a stumbling block still; neither can articulate the sound, nor apparently any word in |