some pretty hard words, paid it over | pray; but that mortgage came right again, with interest.?

up between my prayer and God, * And now,' said the minister, and heaven looked dark and frowning "what are you going to do about it!' through it. At last I could not resist

"I suppose,' said I, the money tbe appeals of conscience any longer, must be paid back.'

and I went again to the mipistor, told “So I went to the deacon the next him my trouble, and asked him what day, told him that on reflection I I should do. was convinced that he was right and “ • There is a simple test,' said lie. I was wrong about the first payment “Do you love your neighbour as yourof the note, and returned him the self? If you do, you will be just io money--a good deal to his astonish him, if it takes from you the last ment.”

shilling you have in the world.' The deacon coughed, and wiped his “That was a terrible sentence. I furehead.

went out staggering from it as if I “I hoped then all was right,” con had received a blow. 'O (iod!' I tinued Captain Ball. “I tried to said, 'how can I be a Christian ?' satisfy my conscience that it was. But I had help beyond myself, otherBut I was afraid to go back to the wise I could never have ended that minister--he has such a way of stir struggle. I knelt before God, and ring up the conscience, and finding solemnly vowed for his sake, for the mud at the bottom, when we flatter sake of his pardon and love, I would ourselves that because it is out of not only do justly to the poor man I sight there is no impurity there. And had wronged, but would give up, if I knew that as long as I dreaded to need be, all I had in the world, so see the minister, something must be that I might find peace in him. A wrong: and on looking carefully into strauve. soothing influence came over my heart, I found the little matter of my soul, and a voice seemed to say, a mortgage which I had foreclosed 'Though you lose all you have, God on a poor man, and got away his and Christ, and the blessings of a farm, when he had no suspicion but heart pure and at peace, shall be left I would give him time to redeem it. you, the best and only true source of By that means I had got into my happiness and life. And in the possession property worth five hun. solemn night-time, after I gave up Ured pounds, for which I did not the struggle, that comfort seemed to actually pay, and for which Isaac me so great and precious, that I felt Dorr never actually realised more willing, if it would only stay with me, than half that amount. But the to accept poverty, and go into the proceeding was entirely legal, and so world poor and despised, hugging that I tried to excuse myself. But my priceless blessing in my heart. The awakened conscience kept saying, next day I was light as if I had had "You have taken the poor man's wings. Nothing could keep me from land without giving him a just re going to see Isaac Dorr, with fifty turn; the law of God condems you, pounds in my pocket, and a note although the law of man sanctions for the remainder of what I owed the wrong. You shall have no peace him. of soul, your heart will burn you, “Well," said the narrator, with until with justice you wipe out your tears running down his cheeks, “I injustice to him, and to all others only wish that every person hele whom you have wronged.

could have seen the Dorr family, “Against the decree of my con when I visited them, and made known science I rebelled a long time. It was my errand. Poor Isaac had grown hard for me to raise two hundred and quite discouraged, and had just made fifty pounds, together with the interest up his mind to quit his wife and childdue from the time the mortgage was ren and go to California. His children foreclosed ; and it was like taking a were crying, and his wife was in an exportion of my life to be obliged to sub-1 tremity of distress and despair. Sbo tract so much money from my gains, received me a great deal better than and to give it to a man who had no I anticipated : I had acted according legal claim upon me. I groaned and to law, she said, and Isaac, careless and mourned over it in secret, and tried to i improvident, was greatly to blame.

fit-il, in fact, ainsbeyance.

517 handsonie a would exclair

ta such a say Lonly answer

I do not wonde e replied, gently

he determi i-a power de to which na

"Walted " I exc at the reality mi And what a v

“ “Yes,' said Isaac, with the firm- | ness I never saw. They would all ness of a desperate man, 'it was a have kissed my feet if I would have savage game you played ine, but I let them. It seemed to me as if was a fool ever to get into debt as I beaven was opened then and theredid, and then fancy that any man and it was opened in my own heart, would not take an advantage when with such a flood of light and joy as the law permits it. I am ruined in I had never experienced or thought consequence; and here you see this possible before. woman and these babies'

“My friends,” added the captain, “The poor fellow broke down as his once hard voice now almost as he looked at them, and cried like a mellow as a woman's, his cheeks still child.

moist with tears, “I have been con“ 'Isaac,' said I, as soon as I could strained to make this confession; I speak. I have come to show you thank you for listening to it. The that a man can be honest even when minister tells me a man may be a the law doesn't compel him to be. church-member, and not a Christian. I want to do right, Isaac, because I mean to be a Christian first, and God commands it; and I have come if I fail ” to tell you that you needn't leave He could proceed no further, but your wife and babies yet, unless you sat down with an emotion more prefer to.'

affecting than words. “ 'Prefer to-go off in a strange I have nothing to add to his narcountry and leave them here to rative, except that he became a suffer?' he cried, and he caught church-member, and that his example the children in his arms, and wrung of thorough repentance, of childhis wife's hand, and sobbed as if his like faith in Christ, and of rigourheart would break.

ous, practical, every day righteous“Then I counted out the money ness, elevated many degrees the I had brought, and explained what I standard of Christianity among my intended to do, and gave him the

people. note; and such surprise and happi- !

ube vibration

re; two mer 12 Tacle Sim

i for their wi "Thata voice ! "He often, I am was in autune det an apple or - puild give a ha ertain to be sirais. I

"Dear Mistres

NOBODY'S BOAT.

ale tou nervou "Ilave read,

that those

brow, and lightning flashing from his
blue ox eyes, she would clasp her
hands, as if before a shrine, and whis-
per, “ That-that, my dear, is Uncle

Sim!”

ter contra

It was a fine picture, and full of character, developing much of the man, besides his features.

The favourite greyhound crouched, with fixed look, before that determined tyrant; the horse, held by a painful, penitent looking groom, in the background, seemed as if fresh from the hands of “ O'Sullivan, the Whisperer," the “Rarey' of the period; the very leaves of the trees drooped; the peacock on the distant pedestal had a draggled look, though his neck was a miracle of colour; the hill and house and wood in the distance were all toned down, to throw out the

figure-all, in fact, except Uncle Sim, noble, he told him if he died he were in abeyance.

would marry his widow, but le res “How handsome he was !" Mistress covered, and they became such fast. Mary would exclaim.

friends- indeed, he it was who often It was such a savage, fierce beauty, told me the little incident of “Nothat I only answered by a question body's Boat.'” “ Was he?!

Mistress Mary had shown me the “I do not wonder at your asking,” remains of a very fanciful little boat, she replied, gently as ever ; “ there bearing that name, in a great overwas a noble determination--a firmness shadowed pond, not far from the ---a will-a power in every look and house. It was most carefully preaction, to which no painter could do served beneath a shed, and she had justice.”

promised to tell me its history. “ Indeed!" I exclaimed, wondering “Let us sit here,' suggested the what the reality must have been. mild old lady, “and then you shall “ And what a voice he had," she

hear.” continued ; “it was like a speaking

“Uncle Sim had an only sister, trumpet.”'

whom, in their early days, he loved “ Was it?"

very much ; though they never lived “ When the masons were putting up happily together, for they were too a new steeple to the parish church at much alike to agree- each desired his expense (for his generosity was to have his or her own way. Of uubounded), he shouted out some course it was the sister's duty to thing about its insecurity, and they submit to the brother : but she did said the vibration threw down the not think so. She married a man he steeple; two men were killed, but had forbidden her to speak to, and dear Uncle Sim provided magnifi disgraced her family by a union much cently for their widows."

beneath her. One feud brought on “What a voice he must have had !” another-her husband died as she was

“He often, I am told, amused his about to become a mother, and Uncle visibors in autumn by getting them Sim offered to settle a handsome inunder an apple or pear tree, and then come on her (her husband had squanhe would give an halloo, and they dered all her fortune), if she would were certain to be well pelted by the give it under her hand that the man falling fruit. His halloo was like she married was a scoundrel, and that thunder!"

she begged Uncle Sim to forgive her." “Dear Mistress Mary, did he not “Surely," I exclaimed, "let her make you nervous ?”

husband be what he would, she would “I have read," she answered cold never consent to such a declaration." ly, “that those who have always “She would have died rather!” lived near Niagara never heed the “So best !” roar of the fall. I was with Uncle “ The child was born, and she was Sim from babyhood, so I suppose I davgerously ill. She wrote to Uncle became used to it; but we had an Sim-" old cook who declared that Uncle “ Well?" Sim's voice broke the drum of her “Uncle Sim was a very firm and ear; so he gave her a pension.”

decided man,-- he loved his sister, “He does not look like a man who but he loved his word better. She would bear contradiction."

wrote once more: it was to tell him Mary Martin turned her eyes on that her child should never cross his me in mute astonishment. At last threshold, unless he carried her over she repeated-“Contradiction ! he was it in his arms. After this no one dared never contradicted but once, and in come near Uncle Sim for a wholo those days gentlemen wore swords, day, and then he called all his serso Uncle Sim ran the contradictor vants together, and forbade them, on through the body."

pain of immediate dismissal, never to It was impossible not to start at mention his sister's name in the house, that, and Mary quickly added. The or bring him any letter of coinmuni. man should not have provoked him cation from her. he knew that Uncle Sim was very Unele Sim was very anxious to get impulsive; dear Uncle Sim was so l the water-lilies to grow on a sheet of

water, which at that time was nearly 1 the telescope rattled against it, and under the breakfast-room window, I fell broken to the ground. Whenand, to prevent their being disturbed, ever Uncle Sim smashed anythinghe ordered the boat he used for duck: 1 a sideboard, or a window, or a man, fowling to be removed--the water or a looking-glass-it renewed his was just where the sunk garden is strength and spirit. now. One morning Uncle Sim came " The cowardly crew!' he exdown to breakfast as usual, and the claimed ; they think it's something friend who met with the little acci supernatural. “Nobody's" boat, indent I told you of was staying in the 1 deed! I'll soon find out what house. Uncle Sim-as you might squeaks.' He rattled through the know by the formation of his fine hall like a piece of field artillery, and blue eyes-was very short-sighted. before his friend was on the doorstep While looking over letters and dis he had waded into the pond, seizeci cussing his coffee, he suddenly per Nobody's boat in his arms, lifted it ceived what seemed to him a very over the threshold, and placed it on little boat close to the shore, among the great hall table, where be always the water-lilies.

feasted the poor at festivals. He then 66. What is that? he inquired. threw back a covering of white crape,

" It looks like a boat,' answered and the low plaintive wail of a young his friend, who did not dare to say it child floated througb the hall. Uncle was one.

Sim staggered back as if he had been “Uncle Sim rang the bell.

shot, and swore a dreadful oath. 6. Whose boat is that?'

Swearing was one of his ways; he " Nobody's, sir,' was the reply. meant no harm; it was no more than

66°Nobody's!'thundered my uncle. if you or I had said, “Dear me,' 'Oh *How came it there?

my,' or 'Lack-a-daisy.' Nothing more! “'Indeed, sir, nobody knows.'

"He did swear :he oath, and ex6. • Why was it not removed ?' claimed that he was done, and by :

“ If you please,' answered Jabez, woman. the butler, who knew Uncle Sim and “ The wail continued, and his his ways well, and consequently got friend went to lift the child. near the door-'if you please, sir, “Another oath with a warning not we did not think it was quite right.' to touch it. 'I have carried it over

" Of course it is quite right; the threshold !-it was my sister's remove it instantly.'

child-it is mine now! I'll pay her “Yes, sir ! only there's something for her craft! She shall never look it in it.'

in the face again!' “Uncle Sim seized the telescope "'She will not need to,' said the which always lay on the table, and gentleman. "She has looked at it Jooked through it towards the lake. I for the last time.'

“ 'I see nothing,' he said. “But ! “The great strong man struggled the man's a cheat that sold me that . to the table, and if his temper was glass-- it is good for nothing. I have į excitable it was nothing to his grief. not paid him for it, and never will He read the few lines which the hand until be comes for his money. Ah ! l of the dying motber had placed on ab ! let the scoundrel come for his the bosom of the little infant when money !'”

she consigned it to its strange c adle. It was exceedingly droll to hear He lifted it to his heart with all a Mistress Mary Martin repeat Uncle mother's tenderness, and in that Sim's violent language in her little, heart he kept it to the last moment meek, soft voice; it was as if a wren of his stormy existence. He never imitated the scream of an eagle.

asked who placed Nobody's boat' «« «Why don't you instantly go among the lilies; and though I cannot and remove Nobody's boat ?' repeated uuderstand how such a glory of a man Uncle Sim, with terrific madness. could love and cherish such a weak.

“'Yes, sir,' answered Jabez, with ling as myself, yet so it was. No the door in his hand :'only there's matter how excited he became, I had something in it that squeaks.

only to touch him witb my band, and “It was well he knew Uncle Sim's | whisper, Uncle Sim, and he was ways, for before the door was closed | still in a moment.”

THAT LANO

From the German.
THERE is a land where beauty will not fade,

Nor sorrow dim the eye;
Where true hearts will not shrink or be dismay'd,

And love will never die.
Tell me,- I fain would go,
For I am burden'd with a heavy woe;
The beautiful have left me all alone,
The true, the tender, from my path have gone;
And I am weak and fainting with despair, -
Where is it? Tell me, where ?
Triend, thou must trust in Him who trod before

The desolate paths of life;
Must bear in meekness, as He meekly hore,

Sorrow, and toil, and strife.
Think how the Son of God
Those thorny paths hath trod ;
Think how He longed to go,
Yet tarried out for thee th' appointed woe;
Think of His loneliness in places dim,
Where no man comforted or cared for Him ;
Think how He prayed, unaided and alone,
In that dread agony, “ Thy will be done!" "
Friend, do not thou despair,
Christ, in his heaven of heavens, will hear thy prave

"WE SPEND OUR YEARS AS A TALE THAT

IS TOLO."

HO that | All is growth, luxuriance, ever-sprout-
goes in- ing varieties--the passing away of
to the short-lived things covered by the
garden fresh growth of new kinds !
to-day A sound comes from the north! It
would is the voice of Winter! In one night
ever fan- his nimble legions come, and the sick.
cy that ling frost cuts down summer to the

summer | ground. In a few weeks decay is had been there? In over; freezing succeeds frost, and midsummer, what summer is wiped away, with all its

covering of the earth, colours, its sights, its sounds; and sad KE what abundance of | wiods mourn over the play-grounds

leaves, what fra of flowers ! Dergrance of blossoms, When, in winter, we remember the

what tangled masses | summer, its glories seem like a dream; of pendulous vines! | it is no longer a fact, but a thing