always by itself. No Monarch has a more complete submission from his subjects than the queenbee from the common bees.

THE CHILD AND THE ANGELS.

BY CHARLES SWAIN, ESQ.

THE Sabbath-sun was setting' slow
Amidst the clouds of even :

"Our Father," breathed a voice below,
"Father, who art in heaven!"
Beyond the earth, beyond the cloud,
Those infant words were given :
"Our Father," angels sang aloud,
"Father, who art in heaven!"

"Thy kingdom come," still from the ground
That child-like voice did pray:

"Thy kingdom come," God's hosts resound,
Far up the starry way.

66 Thy will be done," with little tongue,

That lisping love implores :

"Thy will be done," the' angelic throng
Sing from seraphic shores.

"For ever," still those lips repeat

Their closing evening prayer:
"For ever," floats in music sweet
High midst the angels there!
"Thine be the glory evermore,

From Thee may man ne'er sever;
But every Christian land adore

Jehovah, God, for ever!"

THIS bird, we are informed, belongs to the same

division as the grouse, being distinguished from

the partridge by its smaller size, finer bill, shorter tail, and the want of spurs on the legs. The common species of the quail is abundant in all the temperate regions of Europe and Western Asia; migrating to and from Africa in the proper season: thus it crosses the Mediterranean and Black seas in vast multitudes. In their passages, being exhausted by fatigue, they frequently alight, and are then easily caught. At the spring and fall of the year, these birds, after crossing an immense surface of sea, take a brief repose in the islands of Malta, Sicily, Crete, and about Constantinople; when on these occasions there is a general shootingmatch, which lasts two or three days. The birds

starting from the Crimea about seven at night, and with a northerly wind, before dawn accomplish a passage of above sixty leagues, or one hundred and eighty miles in breadth, and alight on the southern shore to feed and repose. In the spring, on the contrary, the direction of the flight is reversed, and they arrive in a similar condition on the Russian N.S. P.

coast.

LEADING CHILDREN TO GOD.

A MOTHER, sitting at work in her parlour, overheard her child, whom an elder sister was dressing in an adjoining bed-room, say repeatedly, as if in answer to his sister, "No, I don't want to say my prayers: I don't want to say my prayers."

66 often

"How many church members in good standing," thought the mother to herself, say the same thing in their hearts, though they conceal,

even from themselves, the feeling! "Mother," said the child, appearing in a minute or two, at the parlour-door: the tone and look implied that it was only his morning salutation.

"Good morning, my child."

66

'I am going to get my breakfast."

"Stop a minute: I want you to come and see me first. The mother laid down her work on the next chair, as the boy ran towards her. She took him up. He kneeled in her lap, and laid his face down upon her shoulder, his cheek against her ear. The mother then slowly rocked her chair backwards and forwards.

"Are you pretty well this morning?" said she, in a kind, gentle tone.

"Yes, mother, I am very well."

"I am glad you are well. I am very well too; and when I waked up this morning, and found that I was very well, I thanked God for taking care of me."

"Did you?" said the boy, in a low tone, half a whisper. He paused after it: conscience was at its work.

"Did you ever feel my pulse?" asked his mother, after a minute of silence; at the same time taking the boy down, and setting him in her lap, and placing his fingers on her wrist.

"No; but I have felt mine.”

"Well, don't you feel mine now, how it goes beating?"

"Yes," said the child.

"If it should stop beating, I should die."

"Should you?"

"Yes: I can't keep it beating."

"Who can?"

"God."

A silent pause.

"You have a pulse too, which beats in your bosom, here, and in your arms, and all over you; and I cannot keep it beating, nor can you. Nobody can but God. If he should not take care of you, who could?"

"I don't know!" said the child, with a look of anxiety, and another pause ensued.

"So when I waked this morning, I thought I'd ask God to take care of me. I hope he will take care of me, and all of us." A long pause ensued. The deeply thoughtful, and almost anxious expression of countenance, showed that his heart was reached.

"Don't you think you had better ask him for yourself?"

"Yes," said the boy readily.

He kneeled again in his mother's lap, and uttered, in his simple and broken language, a prayer for the protection and blessing of heaven.-Christian Guardian.

MEMOIR.

JOHN HENRY, the son of the Rev. W. Huddlestone, Wesleyan Minister, was born at Shipley on the 20th of August, 1835. His disposition was naturally amiable, and the mildness of his manners endeared him greatly to his family and friends.