MR. B. COOKE, IN ACCOUNT WITH THE TRUSTEES OF THE COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON'S CONNEXION. From July 1st, 1857, to Dec. 31st, 1858.

PROVIDENT FUND. From June 30th, 1857, to December 31st, 1858.

Mr. JAMES HAYCROFT, Treasurer, in account with the Trustees of the Provident Fund.

* Standing in the names of STROUD, TAYLOR, COOMBS, and HAYCROFT.

THE TRUSTEES OF THE COBHAM ROW ESTATE. From Lady Day, 1857, to

Contributions to be forwarded to MR. F. W. WILLCOCKS, Treasurer, 8, Claremont-square, London. N.

Ir was a cold, wintry day; the wind blew from the north, and drifted the snowflakes as they fell, when some men, who seemed peasants of Savoy, were seen descending one of the steep Alps that overhung the valley where they dwelt. They were clad in the peculiar costume of their country, and each carried a sharp bill in one hand, and an Alpine staff, shod with an iron spike, in the other. An old man, whose beard was white, but who was no less vigorous and hale than Although they were accustomed to the way, and inured to such weather, he urged them onward, for the sun was

the rest, took the lead.

R

already sinking in the western sky, and after nightfall the most experienced mountaineer could not pass along that path without danger. Suddenly the leader stood still.

"See," said he, "there lie some poor creatures frozen in the snow." His companions hastened with him to the spot, and found two women stiff and cold, and apparently lifeless.

"They are Jewesses," said one.

"And we are the Samaritans God has sent to help them,” replied the old man. "Let us help them, if we can.”

Quickly they cut down the branches from the trees, and made a litter, on which they placed them, and bore them slowly along the narrow and slippery footpath which wound round the edge of the mountain, on the brink of a precipice that yawned far beneath.

"Though the night may overtake us," said the old man, "we are in the service of the Lord, and He will guide our footsteps that our feet do not slip."

They had not gone very far before they entered a deep ravine where the rocks rose to an immense height on either side, and so narrow was the pass that they were forced to take the women, and bear them through on their shoulders, one after another. By and bye, the path gradually widened, and at length opened into one of those beautiful valleys that so peacefully sleep at the foot of the mountains of Savoy. As it had now become dark, here and there a faint light glimmered in the distance, which seemed to guide them to the village where each one had his home. These men were Waldenses; this village their place of refuge in the mountains; these women were Ruth and Naomi.

They had met with Joseph in Basle, where they remained till he returned for the silver they had left in Strasburg, and exchanged it for gold. Just as they were ready to start for Jerusalem, Joseph was suddenly taken ill, and died. Naomi, however, did not abandon her purpose of going to the land of her fathers.

A few weeks after the death of her husband, she set off with Ruth to Italy, intending to sail from Venice to Syria.

They provided themselves with mules and a guide, and travelled dressed in their simple clothing through the Alps.

But their apparent poverty did not protect them; they were attacked by a band of robbers; the guide, at the first sight of them, fled, and while the men were plundering the packages, Ruth and Naomi made their escape. For two days they wandered about in the mountains, till at length faint with hunger, and worn out with fatigue, they sunk down exhausted in the snow.

As soon as they arrived at the village, the old man took them to his house, and provided for them everything they required. His wife and daughter, and the neighbouring women, showed them every kindness,