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exceedingly thankful for the refuge with which I thought of supplying her!”

When Miss Loveday returned to her room, she found her little friend in a deep sleep, with one arm out from the bed clothes, for it was a hot night, and one hand laid on the little Bible. "Oh! that precious Bible,” she thought, as she quietly lifted it from under the hand; "some dear friend's gift, no doubtperhaps that of her uncle Jocelyn, the simple youth, of whom Mrs. St. Leger told me-whose death threw all the property into the sister's family ? "

Having set down the candle on her dressing table, she carried the book to it, and opening it at the fly-leaf, she read the name of Horace Langford, dated “Rock Cottage,” 1781 ; and some years afterwards, that of Jocelyn Barwell, to which was added, “Horace gave me this, before he fell asleep," the whole of this last entry being made in a very scrawling irregular hand. The name of Barbara Rokeby came next, in a fair but stiff autograph, with these words “Alas! dear Uncle Jocelyn!”

“Yes, I see,” thought the young lady, as she replaced the book under the hand," I see how it is. The Bible was this precious Uncle Jocelyn's. Well ! it was cruel to take it from her; perhaps she possesses no other tangible memorial of him ;” and having thus accounted to herself for the value put by the little girl on the object, she laid down to rest, under the sweet impression of having that day done a kind thing, yet scarcely less ignorant of the real value of a copy of the Holy Scriptures, than one of the infidels at that period committing their horrible atrocities in Paris, might have been.

As we have already remarked above, there never had been a time, since England was a nation in which any thing like vital religion was less esteemed than in or about the period of which this narrative now treats. It is very certain that even the most pious teachers are utterly unable to inspire the mind of those under their influence with spiritual views of Christianity, without God's blessing on their labors; but there is much which they may do, even with those not endowed from above with the new and spiritual nature-- they may give head-knowledge, compelling attention to scripture, and, as it were, forcing respect to things accounted sacred. But no process of this kind, ever had gone

on with Emmeline Loveday, and therefore her kindness to Barbara may not be attributed, in its first operations, to any thing more than a natural sense of justice, and something of that maternal tenderness which is found oftentimes in the young female heart, though these kindly feelings are like the drops of dew in a summer's morning, liable to be speedily scorched up by exposure to the sun, so soon does their freshness pass away in the atmosphere of the world.

The Almighty, however, in his infinite goodness, was now about to give a substance to this shadowy feeling of affection which had fallen from Emmeline upon little Barbara, and through the instrumentality of that unconscious little one, in the words of Holy Scripture, to cause the blessings of her father, the Almighty One, to prevail above the blessings of her progenitors, unto the utmost boundaries of the everlasting hills.

There was some little similitude in the respective experiences, at school, of Jocelyn and Barbara. Both were protected and patronized by elders; but in the first case, the blessing which was not merely temporary had descended from the elder to the younger, following as it were the course of time; in the second, it was appointed to go upwards ; reversing the order of natural descent, for as our Blessed Saviour says, “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit.” The divine Spirit is not restricted in its operations to the laws of created things ; and though that small branch of the Living Rill which seemed to arise as by the divine touch, and without other ministry but that of the word of truth, with the lone widow at Craddock Court, had hitherto flowed as it were downwards, it was now directed to reverse its operations: and having for a little while pursued a secret and hidden channel, to break forth and throw its waters upwards, even on the parched land above it-a desert spot, in which thorns and briers had only hitherto taken root. In other words, it was the elder now that was to receive the truth from the younger; and it was the elder, who was ordained by Providence convey

that which came to her from the younger, to those who were afterwards appointed to receive it.

If it had been possible to have concluded the history of little

to

Barbara in the present number, the narrator would have gladly done so; but it could not be, without omitting much in which the young and pious reader may take pleasure-a few more lines, and the continuation must be referred to another month.

Thé morning was bright, and the window of the chamber partially open, when Emmeline awoke, and looking across her small chamber, saw, that Barbara was already up and completely dressed, and was sitting by the side of her bed, with her beloved book open on her knees. There was a sweetness and peacefulness in the whole appearance of the little girl, which caused Emmeline to think again, and again to ask herselfCan there be so much contentment to a child in reading the Bible?" And then added she, “ She has risen early to have the opportunity of reading this book, and has dressed herself without disturbing me. Did I ever give myself such trouble about the Bible? Have I ever employed myself in private, in reading it? What can that young thing find in it to give her such delight? At least she is a happy child to be so easily pleased ; I will not disturb her, but I will take occasion to tempt her to tell me what it is in that well worn little book which so delights her. I thought that only old and dying people studied the Bible.”

M. M. S. ( To be continued.) .

THE THREE WORDS. The Lindens,” as we have already said, was a sweet place. Situate in a quiet country lane at the extremity of the village already mentioned, and backed by a range of gentle slopes, partly open and partly wooded, it had many of the advantages of a town residence, combined with the fresh air and sweet associations of the country. Of course it was in the cottage ornée style, with a thatched roof, twisted chimneys, and a regular net-work of trellis all over the front, covered with a profusion of climbers and creepers, some of which entwined themselves around the very chimneys, and waved over the pinnacles that graced every gable, like giant eyeleteers on guard. The young ladies who lived there could tell you the classical terms for all these towering herbs and shrubs, from the fuchsia to the common nasturtium, but for our parts, we will never be guilty of such ingratitude to our garden pets, as to call them out of their homely English names. The hall was entered through a honey-suckle porch; and a very pretty hall it was-airy and elegant as if it belonged to some large mansion, though the whole cottage itself stood upon less ground than the vestibule belonging to many of these great houses. This hall opened on the left hand into the common parlour or sitting-room, which had nothing about it particularly worthy of notice, unless it were the entire absence of books or book-cases, a few square stumbling boxes, or ottomans, and a " sideboard remarkable for its antiquity, and the unfathomable profundity of its interior. On the opposite side of the hall stood the best parlour or drawing-room; and as we have generally remarked, that such rooms are typical of the household, we shall be a little more minute in our description of it. Such showapartments have usually an outward and inward aspect, and seem, in fact, to belong rather more to the public than to their own proper owners. We shall therefore first describe that appearance which the drawing-room at “The Lindens” presented to the casual passer-by.

This room, then, as it was seldom or never used, was, as is generally the case, the largest in the house, running back through its entire depth, and opening in the rear, on to a lawn interspersed with little knots of roses, and terminating in a belt of flowering shrubs. As the front windows also reached down to the ground, and were exactly opposite those at the other end, every one who passed the house had the advantage of seeing the whole furniture, animate and inanimate, of that pretty room. It was, however, ingeniously contrived in some degree to break the range of vision by means of a little table, covered with fancy worsted work, and crowned, in summer time with flowers, and in winter, with an immaculate block of coral, which was placed in full front of the window, thus farther benefiting the inmates by shutting out the light just where it was most wanted. In the centre of this room stood a round rosewood table covered with an elegant cloth, around which were generally placed some half-dozen books, radiating with great exactness from a common centre, where stood a curious and unique card-basket, to be hereafter more particularly noticed. There were no shelves, or cupboards, or

chiffoniers about the place, and the chairs seemed to keep at the greatest possible distance from the table, so that employment of any kind was impracticable, unless it could be managed to make a reading-desk or escritoire of the knees. Yet there were a few books, as we have just stated, in the room. There were “The Lyrics of Loveliness,” in quarto ; “ The Ruby," a local annual ; a work on garden flowers, with colored plates; a volume by a young friend of the family, entitled, “Dreams about Dingledown;" two or three albums, and a collection of “original" poetry, by no means original. In the little basket on the table were the cards of “ Sir Skyffen Montague” occupying the post of honor in the centre, and a variety of others of less name and note. Here and there, a pair of them were joined with silvercord, as if silver were the only true type of matrimony, or the proper material of which love-knots ought always to be woven; and where the original envelopes, enclosing these favors, were remarkably tasty, they were still left within their paper shells, like butterflies just peeping from the chrysalis. Everything was covered up, or rather veiled, for better effect, in doyleys and anti. macassars, in shell-work, and leaf-work, and feather-work, and every kind of work ; and the whole place seemed as if intended for a summer parlor, in which those notable spinsters, the Misses Knitting, Netting, and Crochet were to receive visitors, and do nothing else,

Mr. Walkinshaw was a gentleman “out of business," so far as any profits were concerned, but just enough engaged in it to experience its annoyances. Mrs. Walkinshaw was a pleasant looking lady, all smiles and surface, and the Misses Walkinshaw Louisa, Caroline, and Laura-were genteel girls, without any other name, character, or recommendation. The whole household, in fact, lived upon the credit of being nice sort of people, and seemed to think they had nothing to do but to slide through the world easily, and be well thought of by their numerous acquaintance.

Yet it was surprising to those who augured differently from appearances, to find how shallow were the attainments of these young ladies. Without the natural shrewdness of their mother, they were also far behind her in the really useful acquirements of the household. And perhaps it will scarcely be credited when

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