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lighted with her, and signified her wish to 1 Three suns had set when an old man keep her, if the equire could find out who presented himself at the equire's house. she was.

What sent him there? W “Will you stay and be my little girl ?" His children had talked of seeing a

she asked. The child thought, with grave' ghost in the churchyard the night before.

eyes and an earnest countenance, then He had laughed at it till he saw, through I shook her head.

the misty showers of the following day, “Lena go to heaven," she said serenely. I going to dig a grave, a figure quite small,

“But you can't go to heaven, Lena, lying close to one of the mounds. Moving * unless you die, and are buried in the towards it, he found a little child, com#churchyard."

pletely drenched through, a delicate thing, Penting The child looked wistfully up; but she as he thought, in a fever. It was at his

still said, with the old decision of voice house now, and needed help. He being a and manner,

poor man, thought he would see what the “Lena want to go to heaven — see squire advised. mamma."

* “ It is that dear little child,” exclaimed “But mamma is down in the ground.” his wife. “I told her she couldn't go to

The little one seemed perplexed for a heaven unless she died, and was buried in moment, then exclaimed, with a triumph the churchyard. Too young to underant smile,

stand, she thought she must go there and “No! mamma up with God-up in die-poor little soul!” "heaven. Lena knows !” and she would The squire had his carriage ready soon,

listen to no other argument, neither could and drove rapidly to the sexton's house; they shake her faith. Lena remained a back again, and little Lena was deposited day or two, but her little heart was set upon in the arms of his wife. From that to the fulfilment of her mission. Night and bed, quite delirious ; her little hot hands morning she prayed that God would show lifted in supplication to heaven, her dry her the way. On the morning of the third lips calling for the dead mother, praying,

day the child, taking advantage of tempo- beseeching, that God would take her to "" rary loneliness, set out again on her travels. heaven.

She had been gone hours before any one “I think her wish will be gratified," - thought of what might be her object. The said the doctor, as, later, he stood by the

squire caused a search to be made, but it little canopied bed, outside of which the resulted fruitlessly. Probably, he said, child's hands lay like two spotl-ss lilies. some one else had taken her in-somebody “If she is only spared, she shall be as who could cure her, perhaps, of her foolish my own," said Mrs. Ellison, grudging the fancy. Still, it seemed as if the squire was grave the possession of such sweet beauty. a different man since the little angel had “She is the fuirest thing I ever saw; and dropped down upon his happiness. An to think she has been so dreadfully exunrest had been created in his bosom posed, when we thought her safe in some

which made bim dissatisfied with all the harbour. Poor little darling!” and bend=> beauty about him. None knew what it ing over, she kissed the waxen brow. The

was : perhaps he did not even know him blue eyes flew open. = self. But then he often talked about her, “Mother!" cried the child.

and wished she had stayed; often spoke of “She is not looking at you," said the first seeing her kneeling by the road-side, squire, as the woman's heart bounded, and of her childish faith in what he knew thinking the child could recognise her for nothing about. How strange are God's her mother, and so be saved. “She is not providences ! Had he brought that lonely | looking at you-see!” little child, so sufficient for herself in her No; the eyes were wide open, and faith and innocence, to prove his word to shining as if the mystic splendour of the rich man living in ease and without heaven tell upon the blue orbs; the lips God in the world ? Who can tell? The were parted with an eager smile, whose pebble may be very small that dimples the brightness seemed as a reflected gl ry; the surface of the still water, shining so | little hands were raised, but the glance was placidly in the sun, reflecting only beauty; just before her, and upward. but how quickly the fairy circle deepens into “S!ie does see," whispered the squire another and another, till as far as the eye can solemnly, unheeding that large tears were reach the waves respond to the touch! | rolling down his cheeks.

“Manima-Lena coming--Lena good. He bowed in quiet submission, and reLena come to heaven with mamma;” and tired. That night he threw his mattress with one exulting motion, as if she could before the easel, and slept soundly till the bound to meet that presence, seen by her, clock struck three. He then sprang from unseen by all the rest, the light faded out, his couch, and exclaimed, “Three hours the hando fell nerveless : there was nothing are my own: the rest are my master's!” left of the soul but the smile that marked He then seized a palette, and took his seat its dawning immortality.

at the frame, to erase the work of the pre“She did see,” sobbed the squire, as he ceding nights. With brush in hand, to turned from the little bed, all broken make the oblivious stroke, he paused, “Oh, down.

those eyes," said he, “they pierce me Is it a wonder, a miracle, that Squire through! that blood will run from those Ellison is a more thoughtful man than purple veins. I cannot, oh, I cannot erase ever before ? Some say it is; others smile it! rather let me finish it !” incredulously when the little story of Lena He went to work; and soon the slave, is told: but there are some hearts that the darkened brow, the child of toil and believe that child was sent by the Spirit of suffering, are merged in a youthful spirit, God, to do what all other earthly means rising from the impetus of his own death. had failed to accomplish-to lead, with its less energies into a sphere of liberty and little, helpless hand, that noble but im bright beauty.. pious soul to the light of heaven. For the A little colouring here, a touch there, a squire is an altered man. Sometimes he soft shade here ; " and thus three hours takes his children to the churchyard, rolled unheeded by. “Oh, those beaming where 'a pure white stone, surmounted eyes! those lips, they will speak and bless with a little lamb, marks Lena's resting me. My beautiful! Oh, my beautiful place. On a tablet are these words: “She A slight noise caused him to look up. has found heaven.”

Murillo with his pupils stood around. The sunshine was peering brightly through the

casement, while yet the unextinguished THE UNKNOWN PAINTER.

taper burned. Again he was a slave, and

the spirit's folded wing scarce seemed to MURILLO, the celebrated artist of Seville, flutter. His eyes fell beneath their eager often found upon the canvas of some one gaze. of his pupils sketches or specimens of draw “ Who is your master, Sebastian ?" ing, imperfect and unfinished, but bearing “ You, cenor.the rich impress of genius. They were “ Your drawing-master, I mean?” executed during the night, and he was “ You, senor." 'utterly unable to conjecture the author. “ I have never given you lessons.” "One morning the pupils had arrived at the “ No; but you gave them to these studio before him, and were grouped before young gentlemen, and I heard them.” an easel, uttering exclamations of delighted “ Yes, you have done better-you have surprise, when Murillo entered. His asto profited by them. Does this boy deserve nishment was equal to their own on finding punishment or reward, my dear pupils ? " an unfinished head of the Virgin, of exqui “Reward, senor," was the quick response. site outline, with many touches of surpass " What shall it be?”. ing beauty. He appealed first to one and One suggested a suit of clothes, another then another of the young gentlemen, to a sum of money, but no chord was touched see if they could lay claim to the choice but in the captive's bosom. Another said, mysterious production ; but they returned a “ The master feels kindly to-day : ask your sorrowful negative. “He who has left this freedom, Sebastian." tracery will one day be master of us all. He sunk on his knees, and a groan of Sebastian,” said he-a youthful slave stood anguish burst from him. He lifted his burn. trembling before him " who occupies this ing eyes to his master's face: “ The freestudio at night ?"

dom of my father.” “ No one but myself, senor."

The death-chill had passed from his heart, “Well, take your station here to-night, and he breathed. Murillo folded him to and if you do not inform me of the mys his bosom. “ Your pencil shows that you terious visitant to this room, thirty lashes | have talent, your request that you have a shall be your reward on the morrow." | heart: you are no longer my slave, but my

son. Happy Murillo! I have not painted, but made a painter !”

There are still to be seen in classic Italy many beautiful specimens from the pencils of Murillo and Sebastian.

Is there not a voice fraught with sweet eloquence from this little story, penetrating to the sanctuary of the heart, and awakening its holiest sensibilities ? Is there not between the circumstances and trials of our little hero, and the events that sometimes occur in the career of the Christian, an impressive analogy ?

Does he sometimes feel that the shadows of night encompass his pathway, that a dark captivity rests upon him ; but, true to the heavenly impulse, he keeps brightly burning the lamp of faith? With chastened spirit he applies himself vigorously, earnestly, to his work, his appointed work ; and oh, what springs, perennial springs of life and beauty, are unsealed to him in that hour of dark, stern trial! He finds, by the light of his wondrous lamp, locked in the cell of his oppressed heart, the germ of infinite treasures, and opening into its profoundest depth a fountain of light from the shores of immortality. He forgets his captivity, forgets that sin and sorrow have cast their murky shadows over him, in the delightful service of his heavenly Master.

“Bright will the morn of eternity dawn.” Sometimes he thought he was toiling alone and unheeded; but that light will disclose cherubim and seraphim with eyes of eager interest bent upon him, arms of everlasting love ready to enfold him, and a voice filling his soul with untold bliss shall say, “ I have loved thee, loved thee with infinite and unchanging tenderness. Thou hast overcome: henceforth thou art mine, for ever mine.”

6 Guess he brings go many goodies he is afraid we shall rob him," said another.

"Pooh!” said Will Brown, throwing himself back upon the grass : “ more likely he doesn't bring anything at all. I heard my father say the family must be badly pinched since Mr. Green was killed ; and mother said she didn't pity them, for folks had no business to be poor and proud.”

"Well,” said Sam Merrill," I know Mary Green asked my mother to let her bave her plain sewing to do ; but then folks do that sometimes that aren't very poor.”

“ And Joe is wearing his winter clothes all this warm weather, and his pants are patched behind; I saw them," said Howard Colby, with a very complacent look at his new spring suit of light grey.

"I tell you what, boys," said Will Brown: "let's look to-morrow, and see what the old fellow does bring, any way. You know he is always in his seat by the time the first bell rings, and we can get a peep into his basket, and then be in season for the roll-call.”

The boys, agreed to this, all but Ned Collins, who had sat quietly eating his dinner, and taken no part in the conversation, Now he simply remarked, as he brushed the crumbs from his lap, “I can't see what fun there will be in that, and it looks real mean and sneaking to me. I'm sure it's none of our business what Joe brings for dinner, or where he goes to eat it."

“You're always such a granny, Ned Collins,” said Will Brown, contemptuously. “ You've got every one of your old Aunt Sally's notione."

Ned could not bear to be laughed at, and it made him a little angry to hear his kind old aunt sneered at; but his eyes only flashed for a minute, and then he sprang up, shouting, “Hurrah, boys, for football !" and in five minutes the whole playground was in an uproar of fun and frolic.

The next morning, at the first stroke of the bell, a half-dozen roguish faces peeped into the school-room; and, sure enough, there was Joe Green, busily plying his pen. cil over the problems of the algebra lesson. It was but the work of an instant to hurry into the little clothes-room, and soon the whole group were pressing around Will Brown, as he held the mysterious basket in his hand. Among them, in spite of the remonstrance of yesterday, was Ned Collins, with his fine face fairly crimsoned with shame, or something else. We shall see.

" It's big enough to hold a day's rations


FOR THE BOYS. It was a little past twelve o'clock, and a merry group of boys were seated on the young grass, under the trees that shaded the academy playgrounds. A little later, and they would be scattered in every direction at their play ; but first they must attend to thecontents of the well-filled pails and baskets, where their dinners are stored away.

" I should like to know,” said Howard Colby, “why Joe Green never comes out here to eat his dinner with the rest of us, but always sneaks off somewhere till we all get through.”

for a regiment,” said Howard Colby, as pies he had so often seen in Ned's hands, Will pulled out a nice wbite napkin. Next bread and butter, and such honey as nocame a whole newspaper, a large one, too; body's bees but hers ever made, and the and then, in the bottom of the basket, was plump, white breast of a chicken. It was one poor little cold potato. That was all ! | a dinner fit for a king, so poor Joe thought; Will held it up with a comical grimace, and and so the boys thought, as they peeped the boys laughed and cheered as loudly as wonderingly from their hiding-place. But they dared in the school-house.

Joe did not offer to taste it: he only sat - See here,” said Howard. “Let's throw | there, and looked at it with a very pale it away, and fill the basket with coal and face, over which the tears began presently things: it will be such fun to see him to flow very fast. Then he laid his head open it."

on his desk, and Freddy Wilson, one of the The boys agreed, and the basket was smallest of the boys, whispered, “I guess soon filled, and the napkin placed carefully be's praying;” so they all stole away to on the top; and before the bell commenced the playground without speaking another tolling they were on their way down stairs. word.

Ned Collins was the last one to leave the “ That's some of Ned Collins's work," room; and no sooner did the last head dis said Will Brown after a while : “ it's just appear, than, quick as a flash, he emptied like him." the coal into the box again, replaced the “ I'm glad of it, any way,” said Sam paper, and half-filled the basket, large as it Merrill. “I've felt as mean all the forewas, with the contents of the bright tin noon as if I had been robbing a hen-roost. pail that Aunt Sally delighted to store with The Greens are not to blame for having dainties for her darling's dinner. Ned was | only cold potatoes to eat, and I don't wonin his seat almost as soon as the rest, and der Joe didn't want all us fellows to all through the forenoon he looked and felt know it.” as guilty as the others, as he saw the sly " I like Joe Green best of any boy in looks and winks that were exchanged school,” said little Freddy Wilson, "and I among them. Noon came, and there was think it was too bad to try and make fun the usual rush to the clothes-room for of him.” dinner-baskets; but instead of going out to “ Nobody asked you what you thought," the yard, the boys lingered about the door | said Will Brown fiercely: “wait till your and hall. Straight by them marched Ned opinion is called for." Collins, with his pail on his arm.

* The little boy looked very meek, and ate “Hullo, Ned,” said Sam Merrill, "where his dinner in silence; but the fact was, are you going now?"

Will Brown began to feel uncomfortable. " Home,” said Ned, laughing. “I saw “Father says Mr. Green was the bravest Aunt Sally making a chicken-pie this morn- | man in the company,” said Sam Merrill, ing, and they can't cheat me out of my - and that he wouldn't have been killed, share."

only he thought of every one else before “Ask me to go too,” shouted Howard himself.” Colby; but just at that moment they spied “I tell you what, boys," said goodJoe Green carrying his basket into the natured Tom Granger : “I move and school-room.

second that we are all ashamed of our “I should think he'd suspect something," selves. All in favour of this motion will whispered Will Brown: “that coal must be signify it by giving three cheers for Ned awful heavy."

Collins. There he comes this minute, Joe disappeared in the school-room, and brimful of chicken-pie." the curious eyes that peeped through the The boys sprang to their feet, and swing. crack in the door were soon rewarded by ing their capa in the air, gave three hearts seeing him open his basket. “ Hope his cheers for Ned Collins, and even will dinner won't lie hard on his stomach," Brown joined in the chorus with as loud a whispered Howard Colby. But apparently “hurrah" as any of them. Sam Merrill Joe only wished to get his paper to read, explained the whole matter to Ned, and he for he took it by the corner, and pulled, only said in reply, “I've often heard Aunt but it was fast. He looked in, in surprise ; Sally say that it was a poor kind of fun and then, in a sort of bewildered way, took that must be earned by hurting somebody's out a couple of Aunt Sally's great crispy feelings,' and what Aunt Sally says is ’most doughn'ts, then one of the delicious round I always so.”

Gems from Golden Mines.


us and parrot out our tones, and tell out ANGRY words are not to be found in all its

what we really have felt and really have lexicon. Spiteful, bitter, revengeful terms

learnt, thougb they are empty as a drum, there are none in this pure language ;

and their pretensions are as deceitful as hectoring, boastful words-not one to be

Satan himself. The children of God are discovered in the whole dictionary of this

ever upright in their utterance to their heavenly tongue. When Christians use

fellow-men.-Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. these words they are using their old tongue; the old Adam is speaking : but CHRIST ALL AND IN ALL. when they are speaking as the Spirit gives My soul is like a hungry and a thirsty them utterance their word is a seasoned child, and I need his love and consolations with salt, ministering grace unto the for my refreshment; I am a wandering hearers; " they are words such as God's and lost sheep, and I need him as a good Holy Spirit speaketh, that savour of

and faithful shepherd; my soul is like a Christ's spirit, and not of the works of the frightened dove, pursued by a hawk, and I flesh. The Lord give us, both in the need his wounds for a refuge; I am a market-place and in the shop, as well as feeble vine, and I need his cross to lay in the pulpit and in the prayer-meeting, hold of and wind myself about it ; I am a to speak this pure language among our sinner, and I need his righteousness; I am fellow-men! I do detest, above all things, naked and bare, and need his holiness and that aping of this pure language-the sancti innocence for a covering; I am in trouble monious whine, the pious cant, the draw and alarm, and I need his solace; I am ing of a long face, the using of evangelical ignorant, and I need his teaching; simple terms, and the unctuous oil that has long and foolish, and I need the guidance of his grown rank and rancid; and yet some Holy Spirit. In no situation and at no people, when they want our charity, will time can I do without him. Do I pray? come to us in that way. I would sooner He must prompt and intercede for me. help a blasphemer than a hypocrite. I Am I arraigned by Satan at the divine feel ten times more indignation against a tribunal ? He must be my advocate. Am man that pretends to be my brother in I in afliction ? He must be my helper. Christ, and is not, than I do against one Am I persecuted by the world ? He must who honestly avows, “I am not on the | defend me. When I am forsaken, he must Lord's side;" for there is honesty in the be my supporter ; when dying, my life; one and hypocrisy in the other; and in when mouldering in the grave, my resurthe true child of God there is nothing of rection. Well, then, I will rather part the sort. You remember the old woman with the whole world and all that it conand Mr. Rowland Hill. Well, old women tains than with thee, my Saviour; and of that sort are not dead yet. “Oh, sir," God be thanked, I know that thou too said she, “I get so much good under your art not willing to do without me. Thou blessed ministry.” “Yes," he said ; c and art rich and I am poor ; thou hast when do you think you were converted ?" righteousness, and I sin ; thou hast oil “On so-and-so under your blessed ministry.” and wine, and I wounds ; thou hast “And you wish to join the church, do you?" cordials and refreshments, and I hunger 6. Yes, I do, that I may sit under your and thirst. Use me, then, my Saviour, for blessed ministry." "And,” now said Row whatever purpose and in whatever way land, “ did you ever hear that we have some thou mayet require. Here is my poor blessed almshouses?" "Yes, sir, I have heart, an empty vessel ; fill it with thy heard that, and I was hoping that I might grace. Here is my sinful and troubled have one of them.” “Yes,” said Rowland ; soul; quicken and refresh it with thy love. "you are a deal too blessed for us, so you Take my heart for thine abode; my mouth may take yourself off.” There are others to spread the glory of thy name; my love of that kind that do not know the pure | and all my powers, for the advancement of language. There is no pure language about | thy honour and the service of thy believing them at all; yet they think they will mock people.- From the German.

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