"How delightful!" cried Ellice; "we have all so much wished to know you. I love your books, they have done me great good!" And she stretched out her hand, with so much sincerity in her tone, and so much emotion in her soft hazel eyes, that I was fairly taken by surprise, though infinitely pleased, at this first personal testimony to the result of my work. "You always speak to my heart," she said, in an undertone, almost tremulous with deep, earnest feeling, "it will do me good to be with you."

Before I had time to reply, Margaret and Fanny, who had taken the card from Ellice, sprang forward, Margaret crying out that it was wonderful, and she had so long wished to see me, but always felt as if I, in common with other authors, lived generally in Palestine, or at the Poles, or in the moon, or in Jupiter, or anywhere save on English ground, and in the vicinity of London! Fanny rushed to inform her mamma of the discovery Ellice had just made; but "mamma" was in possession of the astounding fact, Mrs. Merton having already mentioned my name.

Then there was great confusion, great gabbling in French and English, much pulling and hauling of heavy luggage; then the landing under difficulties, the tide being too low, or the pier too high, to allow us to step on shore; then the custom-house, a great clamour about octroi, which ended in nothing; and in five minutes more the Hotel, and a well-spread table-the "Hotel Christol," as it is now called; but whether it bore that name on this my first visit to Boulogne, I am not positively certain.

(To be continued.)

THE BROKEN LILY.

SHE was in truth a lily fair,

Sweet floweret of an hour,

Too pure to bloom in earth's cold clime,
More meet for heaven's bower.

E'en as the fragile lily sheds

Sweet perfume o'er our way,

So round our inmost hearts she flung
A radiance bright as day.

So free, so joyous, full of glee,

We deemed her all our own,
Nor thought we that the cloud of woe
Around her could be thrown.

But oh! the blast of sickness came;
Our lily quivered-bent.
One fatal gust, and on the ground
Her shattered form she leant.

Vainly we struggled to rebind

The life-links that were riven;
But no! the shaft of death had sped,
And our fair flower was given.
VOL. VII.-NEW SERIES.

Gently we laid her in her rest
'Neath sods and early flowers.

A broken lily tells too well
How soon she went with God to dwell,
'Mid brighter realms than ours!
CALLER HERRIN'.

ENVY.

BY THE REV. DR. GRAHAM, PRESBYTERIAN
MISSIONARY.

A glow-worm sat on the grass;

As I passed through the woods I found it. Bright as a diamond it shone,

With a halo of light around it.

A toad came up from the fen;
It was ugly in every feature;
Like a thief it crept to the worm,

And spat on the shining creature.
"What have I done," said the grub,
"As I sat here in silence nightly?"
"Nothing." replied the toad,
"But why did you shine so brightly?''

X

.

WHEN LONE AT EVE I MUSE, MY LOVE.