will always bring comfort, and you will remember too that it is He who has placed you where you are, and given you that fresh work to do, and new interests and joys will soon spring up in your life.

In the town or village in which you may be living, there are nearly sure to be some Bible or Communicants' Classes on Sundays, or during the week. These classes are very useful and helpful; they help the clergyman to know his people better, and bring them more within reach of his influence and guidance; they bring people together who would otherwise be strangers, and promote a spirit of mutual fellow-feeling and sympathy. I hope very much you will find out if there are any classes of this sort in the parish where you are living, and if so, that if possible, that is, with your mistress's approval, you will join one of them.

I have often heard girls complain that they cannot get out to come to the Holy Communion, that it is at an inconvenient time, when they cannot be spared, and I know for that reason very many stay away who would gladly come. But I think in engaging for any new place, one of your first stipulations should be that you should be able regularly to attend the Holy Communion and other Church Services. Say to yourself, 'I have promised to do my duty in that state of life unto which it shall please God to call me; how can I do so without God's help, as given in His own appointed way?' I do not think you would find any difficulty in making this arrangement if you were really in earnest about it, only if the subject is not mentioned at first, and clearly understood, very often hindrances arise, and you are prevented from getting away at the right time, and by-and-by perhaps fall out of the

habit of attending almost altogether. I do not mean that we can always go to church, always go to the Holy Communion. Scmetimes sickness prevents us, sometimes there may be a quite unforeseen hindrance to keep us away. We can generally tell what is His will for us, which for the time is our right course. What I mean is, that we have no right wilfully to put ourselves in any place where we shall be habitually hindered from keeping our dear Lord's Commandments. We must try to remember that our first duty is always to Him. You know one of His last Commandments was, 'Do this in remembrance of me;' and you will remember too that He said, 'If ye love me, keep my commandments; and, 'If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love.'

Oh, dear girls, let us-you and I try to feel more and more, and practise it, too, more and more in our daily lives, that as the ivy only grows upwards, and spreads itself abroad in strength and thickness while it clings to the tree or rock which supports it, so can we only grow in grace by clinging to our Lord, and that is best done, indeed, only to be done, in His own way, by using the means which in His loving care He has appointed for us.

And now, dear girls, I must finish my long letter. Perhaps one of these days I shall be writing to you again.

Believe me, your friend,

A. E. I.

Making the Most of Things. AVE you ever heard of the Frenchman who made a fortune out of bits of bread?

There was once upon a time a very poɔr

man in Paris; so poor, that he had not a farthing, nor any means of getting one. He went into a poor eating-house, and begged for some of the bits of bread that the customers had thrown under the tables. The master of the house allowed him to take them, and he made a sufficient, if not very comfortable meal. As he sat eating, a bright thought struck him. Why should he not go round to all the little eating-houses after dinner, collect the bread, and sell some of it?

This plan he immediately put into practice. How or where he bought his first knife and other simple utensils, or whether he borrowed them, I do not know, but, like a sensible man, he determined to make the best of his means. He cut the large pieces into neat half and quarter rolls; these he sold to the poorest soup and coffee-shops as bread. The pieces he cut from these he shaped into neat diamonds, fried them, and sold them, at so much a pound, to the soupshops, to serve up with their soup. Of the bits of crumb he made little bread-puddings, which he sold hot. The white crumbs he sifted and sold for stuffings, the brown for fish and cutlets, and the mere raspings of crust for sprinkling on ham and bacon. He could soon afford himself a couple of nice baskets with clean white linings; then these would not contain his wares, and he had to get a truck; soon the truck was too heavy for him, and he was obliged to have a cart. And when I heard of him, he had a splendid van with two horses !

MRS. JOHNSON.

Until the Daybreak.

Our sorrow will be done,

And Paradise be won,
In the morning.

Our darkness will be gone,
And endless daylight dawn,
In the morning.

All our dim doubts will die,
And Truth be clear and nigh,
In the morning.

The Maiden and the Stars. THE bell for the evening service

Was pealing in the air,
And a cottage-maiden heard it,
And said 'They go to prayer.'

She crept to the latticed casement,
And gazed out through the night,
To where the church of the village
Was all ablaze with light.

Lights were in tower and belfry,

And lights in the nave and aisle, But the child looked up still higher

With eyes that wore a smile. "They're lighting the lamps in heaven,' She said, and looked to where Her grandsire feeble and weary,

Sat nodding in his chair.

'They've lighted the lamps in heaven,

I've watched them one by one;
The angels have been so busy,

But now they've nearly done.
'They're going to church in heaven,'
She paused to watch anew;
But the old man made no answer,-
He'd gone to church there too.

The hand of the belfry timepiece
Still surely onward sped ;
The lights died out from the window,
The child slept in her bed.

But still there were stars in heaven,
Still lights amid the sky,

For there is a ceaseless service
Within the church on high.

D. RICHMOND.

If thou canst plan a noble deed,

And never flag till it succeed,
Though in the strife thy heart should bleed,
Whatever obstacles control

Thine hour will come-go on, true soul;
Thou'lt win the prize, thou'lt reach the goal.
C. MACKAY.

A Pair of Mittens;

OR,

Diss Berton's Story.

By the Author of Hold the Fort, &c.

(Continued from p. 135-)

CHAPTER II.

OU must imagine me, then,' said Miss Merton, 'somewhere about forty years ago, very different from what I am now: gay and high-spirited, even good-looking' (she added, smiling), though I hardly expect you to believe that. It really is a fact that some people thought so, and that no one was more danced with, or more popular than I was. I suppose I was rather lively and amusing, and they did not know or did not care about my temper. There was one young man, an officer in the army, the son of a neighbour, who seemed inclined to take more pains to know me than the rest. He was always near me when possible if we were at the same place, and he came often to our house. He had not said anything, but I felt that he liked me, and I began to look forward to meeting him and to enjoy his visits. One evening at a dance he was more than usually attentive to me, and on taking leave asked my mother if she would be at home the next day about five o'clock, as he could not get away from his duty till then, and hoped to ride over in the afternoon. My mother said yes, and I went to bed full of all sorts of visions, and woke the next morning with the feeling that something was going to happen. My brother was at home then, and he and I were great friends and companions, though I lost my temper with him perhaps oftener than with any one else. He had been that morning to the neighbouring town, and I had given him a commission to execute for me. I was a great knitter even in those days and I wanted some particular wool to finish a pair of mittens, like those you saw me doing the other day. James had asked me to give them to him when they were done, but I would not promise, as I had a secret hope in

my own heart, that they might be for somebody else, and I wanted particularly to finish them that morning. How curiously things come about! To think that after all I should have given a pair of mittens, of my knitting to-to that young man! Well, my brother when he returned from Ashford came at once to the room where my mother and I were sitting, and before we had time to speak, he exclaimed, “I have just heard that (I will call my friend A———) that Captain A- -'s regiment is ordered to India. In fact, I met A-himself, and he told me so!" ""Is he going?" asked my mother, eagerly. 'I did not speak or look up.

""I asked him that," said James, "and he answered in rather a peculiar sort of way, 'I will tell you to-morrow.' He is coming here presently, you know," added James, with an awkward attempt at carelessness; while he and my mother both looked at me as if they thought I was especially interested in Captain Amovements.

'This rather annoyed me. I did not choose to be supposed to care whether he came or went, and I asked James if he had done my commission, as if that was of much more importance to me than anything else.

'No; he had forgotten all about it. "But it can't signify," he added, taking hold of my work, "when you have so many colours already.”

'I snatched my work from him impatiently; and in doing so, one of the knitting-pins slipped out, and many stitches were dropped. It seems too foolish, too childish, too impossible at this distance of time, and I can only suppose that I was somewhat upset by the news, and the attempt to disguise how much it affected me-1 can't tell what it was-but my temper suddenly gave way, and I answered, quite angrily, “I know it does not signify to you, you need not tell me that!"

'My brother made some half-joking, halfteasing reply, to which I rejoined hotly; and I need not tell you, Susan, how little it takes to make one quite unreasonable when temper gets the upper hand. I cannot remember all that

passed, but I know I spoke angrily, and he appealed in his usual cool way-which always irritated me because it seemed so contemptuous -to my mother, asking her whether my temper was not more unbearable than ever. I was just leaving the room, and he called after me," How glad I am to be only your brother! I wouldn't be your husband on any consideration! Poor fellow how I shall pity him, whoever he may be !"

'The folding-doors to the ante-room stood half open, and as I went through them, I found myself face to face with Captain A, who was standing there, held back by two young cousins of mine who had been playing in the outer room.'

'Oh, Miss Merton, he must have heard what your brother said!'

'Yes; I saw it in his face, but I was too much excited to stop and speak. I was half ready to cry, and felt myself only fit to be alone. Hurrying on, I swept past a tower of wooden bricks which the children had been building; and I can remember the crash with which it came the ground, and the way in which the sound conveyed to my mind a prophetic feeling of the downfall of all my own castles in the air!

'It was some time before I felt calm enough to return to the drawing-room; and when I did, Captain A was no longer there.

"I made him promise to come back to dinner," said my mother, "but he did not seem like himself, and was quite out of spirits. I suppose he does not like leaving England."

'I was thoroughly put out all the afternoon; and even when the evening came, I could not recover my usual state of mind. I was ashamed of having been seen in such a passion, vexed with my brother for having provoked me, vexed with myself for having been provoked, unhappy at the report that A-'s regiment was going to India, uneasy as to what he might be going to say or do,—in short, altogether disturbed and uncomfortable, which led to my being anything but agreeable and pleasant to my companions.

'Asat by me at dinner, but I would hardly

speak to him, or give him the opportunity of speaking to me. I devoted myself to a schoolboy who sat on the other side, and contrived to talk nonsense and make jokes with him all the time. After dinner, I entrenched myself in a position where it was hardly possible I should be got at, and then felt rather aggrieved that Captain A- did not come to me! At length there was a move, which he took advantage of. He came and sat near me looking very grave and thoughtful, as if he wanted to say something but did not know how to begin. I don't know what evil spirit possessed me, but even then I would not be otherwise than provoking and unamiable.

""You have heard that my regiment is ordered to India, Miss Merton; have you not?" he said at last.

""Oh, yes!" I answered carelessly; "somebody told me so. When do you start?" I would not look up, but went on as if I was much more interested in matching my wools than in his answer.

"I am not quite certain-at least you are not doing your usual work, Miss Merton," he said, breaking off suddenly. "You were knitting some mittens the other evening, are they finished ?"

"No, they are not finished," I answered rather crossly; "my brother, of course, forgot my commission, and I have not got the material for finishing them."

'The work was in my basket, and Captain A took it out.

""Will you give them to me," he said, "just as they are?"

""Certainly not!" I answered, with a constrained laugh; "you will not want such things in India!"

""I should have liked-whether I go to India or not-if I thought,—it is not quite certain, did your brother James tell you my plans were uncertain ?"

""Oh, I never listen to James! He does not know when to leave off if he once begins talking about his friends."