PART SECOND.

"Rise heart; thy Lord is risen, sing his praise
Without delay;

Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With Him mayst rise:

That as his death calcined thee to dust,

His life may make thee gold, and much more just."

HERBERT.

THE merry bells performed their part this sunny Easter morning; the full rich peal rang melodious changes, such as would have almost shaken down the old steeple in days of yore, slanting and weather-beaten as it stood; a few of the oldest folks could just remember it; some who had attended the school in its first days, and recollected the novelty of marching down, two and two, on the Sunday of the opening.

A number were now hastening into the double aisled Church, and took their seats in the open benches, which were soon crowded; and the raised seats in the gallery were filled with bright intelligent looking children, who joined with the congregation in the hymns and chants, with soft melodious voices. There was nothing but devout deportment during prayers, as with one voice, the stream of petition arose; and equally wrapt attention when Dr. Coverdale pronounced his text in a clear audible voice, from the words, "I am the resurrection and the life."

Two things were manifest in his sermon: first, that he was one who shunned not to declare to his flock "the whole counsel of God," and that in a forcible, emphatic manner; and secondly, that he had before him, not only an attentive, but a well instructed and enlightened audience; "though poor, they were rich in faith," and evidenced that with all the planting and watering of the last sixty years, God had given the increase.

Dr. Coverdale will not think us intruding, if we accompany him, during the week, to some of the cottages, the visitation of which is divided between himself and his curates. They have been chiefly rebuilt, and made into snug, comfortable little English homes, fitted for an intelligent set of people.

Let us go in at this little open gate, for we hear such sweet singing in the distance. The flower garden, in perfect order, is filled with beds of white and purple violets, snowdrops, and the wild daffodil, with a sprinkling of coloured primroses and mezereon, with grass paths between; and the warm thatched cottage is half covered with a scarlet creeper. We will follow

this side walk, which leads us into the orchard, where two little girls are sitting, singing as they work. Their faces betoken much content and cheerfulness, and become quite radiant when their good minister makes his appearance, and taking a seat beside them, inquires if their needlework will be ready for the next missionary ship. The reply indicates that they will not be behindhand in this or any other good work, and after a few words of encouragement and exhortation, we will take leave of them, and step in, this evening, to another cottage.

We were struck everywhere with the abundance of flowers in the gardens, and trained over the walls; and discovered that Dr. Coverdale had done much to encourage a love for them among his people, for His sake who has created and adorned the earth with their beautiful and delicate forms; at the same time, inspiring them with love and adoration for Him who Himself has desired us to "Behold the lilies of the field."

We enter the porch of the next cottage; but wait a few minutes before going in directly at the half-opened door. The father of the family is conducting their evening worship, which is composed of prayer, Scripture reading, and speaking to themselves "in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs; and truly theirs is a "melody" of both "heart" and lips, "to the Lord." It is a house upon which the cloud of sorrow is resting; for a dear little daughter, Rhoda, is very ill, and drawing nigh to the gate of death. Many a time has the prayer been offered that it may be to her the entrance into everlasting life, through that Saviour who is now loved and praised in her little infant heart. Dr. Coverdale's whole deportment towards her was that of a shepherd tending a little lamb of the One Fold; for when her gentle features beamed with fresh light and joy, as he spoke to her of the heavenly country, he had reason to be assured that she was going thitherward, to that Saviour who has said that the spirits of his little ones "do always behold the face of his Father which is in heaven."

This was to be the last meeting on earth between the faithful pastor and this tender plant of his watchful care; for the next morning, at dawn, she softly sighed her life away.

The following Sunday little Rhoda was laid beneath the fine evergreen plantation; and as the mourning friends dispersed, and Dr. Coverdale quitted the grave, he humbly blessed God, in so far as He might have caused his labour "not to be in vain in the Lord."

RIVERS.

THE COUNSELLINGS OF SUMMER.

O SUMMER! child of the sun; born in the midst of the tears and smiles of thy mother spring! Whilom, we gazed on thy tender and sweet childhood. Now with the firmer step of boyhood, thou stealest, aye, so stealthily, that thy presence is remembered by us as the dreams which visit our slumbers. When thy father's fiery eye peeped over the landscape, and his happy smiles mantled in golden dimples on the blue orient, thou didst spring with exultation from thy green couch among the bending grass, and rudely toss the quiescent leaves on the tall elms in thy gleeful haste to greet him.

And when the noon came, and the cattle sought the cool shade of the wide spreading tree, and the lazy hum of the busy insect was on the stagnant pool, thou didst sleep, whilst the sun looked down with strong and proud eye on his drowsy child.

But thou art growing old, summer! thy tints have deepened in the perfect and masculine dark green; already we detect the brown leaf amongst the foliage which thou hast bound about thy brow; here and there on thy forehead gather the lines of care left by the harvesters of the early produce of the earth.

We have felt thy invigorating breath among the scents from the hay field. We have walked with thee when the evening spread abroad its cool shade. Now, we would listen to be taught that which thou hast learned in thy sojourn among us, if haply there may be some word which shall fall deep into our hearts, and produce the peaceable fruits of righteousness, or alleviate and strengthen us amidst the disappointments and throes of the life we have to live.

If we can rightly interpret thy meaning, thou art bidding us beware that the seen is temporal.

All that we gaze on is merely the form which the unseen assumes. We cannot preserve one leaf; each will fade, and the beauty of it vanish.

What a warning is this, my brothers, to such of us as are placing our happiness in the outward appearance, and are anxious only lest we should not look well. Can there be any one so foolish as to squander his own whole energies on the back and the brain, whilst the heart is left uncultivated, uncared for, and left to become the unheeded nursery of the deadly nightshade, or the gaudy poppy?

Do we not perceive that these things change? Know we not that even "knowledge shall vanish away"? Literature has its proper function when it bodies forth and becomes the exponent of the hidden things of the universe; when it is not built on the eternal laws of the universe, it is like sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. It is only when it becomes permeated with the sacred feelings of the heart, that it attains unto an unfading summer time.

Brother, attend to thine heart first, and leave thy coat to care for itself. Be sure that thy sympathies are right, and then wilt thou see more clearly how thy head may be put right; the state of the feelings, above all things and before all things-and then these secondary matters will more easily and correctly find their proper niche of time. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you."

These adjuncts, like this fair summer and all sensuous things, shall disappear; but if they are genuine and not illusory, the religious sensations around which they congregated shall live on, and amidst decay assume another glorious existence.

There is no thought like this last to give energy to the tired arm, and strength to the trembling knee. How often should we feel that we lived in a vain show and be forced to exclaim-" What profit hath a man

of all the labour that he taketh under the sun ?" did he not know that "Unto them who by patient continuance in well doing, seek for glory and immortality," shall be awarded eternal life.

“Be it known unto you, sons of men!" proclaims the summer, 66 that although the beautiful may perish, beauty expires not. More or less, in all thy doings, in every action, in every thought, endeavour to express what thou hast been taught of beauty-taught by communion with this wide world, and with its God and its Saviour. Lay hold on every help, until thou shalt attain unto the enduring principle, and be meetened to dwell in the light of God."

But let us remember the long and patient process this summer had to pass through, before it came out so grand in its green robes. How many storms and rough times has it survived. Far down among the earths and alkali, the roots of the tree, that holds its head like a harp from which the wind may smite music, have been many months continually gathering nourishment and support. Every stalk of corn had to persevere amidst many hindrances before it reached the light, and when it did put its head up joyously to the light, the insect and the tempest stood ready to

devour it.

There is nothing worth the having which we can get without trouble. Let us lay this down as an axiom which we will for ever practically believe That we will strive for what we have. Not strive to be higher in position; but strive to be quite equal to our position; to get the power to do the thing that lies next to us well; to have that power our own, so that it shall be by us at all calls to do any right service. It may be a struggle to attain this power, perhaps a protracted struggle, but let us enter the list bravely; ultimate success is sure. Let us not sit tremblingly in our naked weakness. Let us up and clothe ourselves with power. So shall we be strong to do honest