The kind girl, full of pity for him, and anxious to relieve him, called the attention of neighbours to him, but they declined to take any step in the matter. At last she called a policeman. He made the case known to the authorities, and the little sufferer was taken to the workhouse hospital. Here he remained in great suffering, the doctors being unable to do anything to relieve him. In training him for an acrobat, his parents had treated him so severely, in order to make his tender little limbs supple, that there was not a bone in his body seemingly in its proper place, and his agony was most intense. Six doctors, including Queen's physicians, had his case under consideration, but their skill could not avail. He was unable to lie on his back or side. A frame was made to support his head as he leaned forward. His poor little hands were wrapped in cotton-wool steeped in morphia, to allay the pain. When he had been in the hospital about four months, a lady went to see him, from whom I heard this most touching and true account. She said she should never forget his face when he raised his head to speak to her. Such a beautiful face, with sweet blue eyes and placid expression, met her gaze. He so frequently said, "Thank you." It was, "Thank you, I am not suffering quite so much to-day"; or, "Thank you. You are so kind." One day, she asked him if he loved Jesus. He looked at her so reproachfully that her heart smote her for having asked such a question; then he said, "Jesus loves me." She saw then the meaning of his reproachful look. How could she ask him whether _he_ loved Jesus when Jesus loved _him_? The dear little sufferer had grasped the secret of power. It was not _his_ love for Jesus, but the love of Jesus _to him_, that was the solid rock on which he stood. Another time he said, "Oh, I don't mind bearing a little pain for Jesus. He died for me." The language of some in the hospital was very dreadful. Such blasphemy--such cursing and swearing--even when dying. But the clear voice of the young sufferer often rose high above all others. It distressed him beyond all measure, and he called out, "Oh, don't, don't! Jesus hears you." Rough men, touched by the sight of his pain, would stand by him, listening to his words, silenced by his entreaties. Truly he was "out of weakness made strong." Not long after the visit of the lady to whom I have referred, God released the loving little soul from its tenement of suffering, and revealed to him, in the "eternal weight of glory," how fully He loved him. His brief tale of life on earth, with its pain so bravely borne, and its knowledge of love so faithfully testified, is now changed for the song and the crown, and the exceeding bliss of being for ever with Him who loves him, "whom to know is life eternal," and "in whose presence is fulness of joy." NETTIE. A RED SEA ROCK.