had brought her up carefully, and early taught her to depend upon God in all things; and when she died commended her to his care, telling her to bear patiently all the sorrows which would await her, in the home of her uncle, who had promised to take her into his family; which she now mainly supported by her industry.

When Mary reached the village, she sat down on a bank by the road side to rest herself, and was enjoying the pleasant coolness of the evening, when she was aroused by the voice of her little cousin' Norah, who stood beside her, breathless with running, exclaiming, Mary dear, do come home, for the children are all crying for their supper, and mother says you might have been home an hour since." Mary rose from her seat, and kissing the face of her little cousin, she replied, "Well, dear, I am very sorry to be so late, but when I took the gloves, Mr. Calland was out, and I had to wait more than an hour; but let us make haste, and I am sure the children will be quite good tempered, when they see what nice things I have in my basket." The cousins soon reached their home, which was a small cottage on the outskirts of the village. "Well, Mary," said her aunt, as they entered, "I thought you would never come home, and the poor children are nearly starved for want of their supper," I will make it this minute," replied Mary, cheerfully, "and look, dear aunt, at this whole pound of tea which Mrs. Calland gave me for you; because, she said, times were hard; and she wants to know if you will let Norah go to the Sunday school, aunt." Mary stopped abruptly, for though her aunt looked pleased about the tea, a disagreeable expression came over her face at the mention of the Sunday school. Mrs. Counar had spent her girlhood in ignorance of the great truths of religion, and though she had received some faint idea of them since her marriage, she was very much prejudiced against the Sunday and Day schools established by Mr. Calland. Mr. Connar, on the other hand, was a sensible, well-informed man, and a firm friend to the Protestant interest in S

The children were soon busily engaged eating the porridge prepared by Mary's willing hands, and after they were all put to bed, she began making the little homestead as tidy as possible for the approaching Sabbath. Her aunt sat by the open door, listening for the return of her husband. She seemed very much annoyed by the thought of Norah going to the school, and presently began as follows, "What did you say to Mrs. Calland about it, Mary?” "That I thought you would consent," said her niece. Well, then, I don't. like Sunday schools, and though I think you are just as good for going, Norah is not like you, and I can't spare her either, so I see no use in beginning it."

"Come, dear aunt, you must consent, for Norah will there learn to read, and you know how much my uncle likes to hear a chapter in the Bible at night, when he comes home tired."

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of her uncle, who was a rough, but very kind hearted man, and on hearing of Mrs. Calland's proposal, he agreed with Mary that she must take Norah with her next day to the Sunday school. She ran up to her little room with a most thankful heart, to tell her cousin the joyful news, for it was Norah's highest wish to be like cousin Mary, and know her kind teacher. "And Norah," said Mary, "you will hear about Jesus, how he loved poor children and blessed them, and how he was once a child like you are." Poor Mary, she was very tired, and rather unhappy, for she often wished her gentle mother was still near to help and cheer her, but then she remembered those ever blessed words, "Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;"-Matt. xi. 28-and she went to sleep with a calm and peaceful heart, happy in the thought that her Father in heaven would protect her for ever, and at last take her to a blessed home in heaven.

(To be continued.)

MILTON'S LAST VERSES.

I AM old and blind!

Men point at me as smitten by God's frown-
Afflicted and deserted of my mind-

Yet am I not cast down.

I am weak, yet strong

I murmur not that I no longer see-
Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong,
Father Supreme! to Thee.

O merciful One!

When men are farthest, then thou art most near;
When friends pass by, my weakness shun,
Thy chariot I hear.

Thy glorious face

Is leaning towards me, and its holy light
Shines in upon my lonely dwelling place,
And there is no more night.

On my bended knee

I recognise Thy purpose clearly shewn-
My vision Thou hast dimmed, that I may see
Thyself Thyself alone.

Ir probably will be asked on reading the above, what connexiors can there be between a fly and steam, especially a little fly? let us

see:

On the 1st September, 1852, some friends called in upon us at Peterhead, N.B., in the afternoon, and as the weather was unusually fine, a walk was proposed; my spouse suggested tea first, and then we could prolong our walk into the shades of evening. Forthwith every preparation was made, the fire got up in the kitchen, and the kettle when ready, with the teapot, transferred into the parlour— the latter was soon supplied with the pleasant leaf and heated water. Steam arose from this in fleecy clouds. During the cheerful chat and taking the social meal, the sun got low, and a change had taken place in the temperature-no uncommon thing in this exposed part of North Britain-the steam, therefore, became condensed on the glass of the window near where we were sitting; we had not commenced our fire in the parlour. The meal over, the ladies proceeded

at once to attire. During their absence, my attention was attracted by curious lace-like markings on one of the panes; they extended in a very zigzag-like manner across it, and up one side, and would have extended, if in a straight line, eighteen inches. Curiosity was at once on the tiptoe. I tried to discover how this occurred, and on applying my pocket magnifying glass-my old companion for nearly thirty years I found a small, very small, delicate black fly with long wings, as busy as could be, sucking up with its proboscis and with the greatest gusto, the condensed steam, moving forward as quickly as possible immediately it had exhausted the spot on which it had fixed the disk of its proboscis. I also noticed that it did not push it forward when it had absorbed the moisture, but invariably lifted it up, thus leaving a round dot. When it moved the right front leg the dot was made to the left side, and vice versa on moving the left, thus giving a double row of alternate dots, and, as if to add to the beauty of the markings, its course was very much contorted, reminding me of the lace border of a cap. Although I had little time to spare, I out with my memorandum book, roughly sketched the tracks, and fly. In addition to other notes from which the above was taken, the following reflection was jotted down :-" Whilst noticing this little creature thus employed, I felt how true it was that of all God has made not a particle can be lost. To a careless person the clouds of steam as they arose from the tea were vapour, and would vanish like a cloud in the air, but we see that when condensed on the glass, it thus becomes nourishment to this little fly. From this we may learn a useful lesson, showing harmony and wisdom, as well as design, in all nature, and that nothing is made in vain." By this time the ladies having made extraordinary despatch were ready. I, however, detained them a moment to show them the little creature getting its tea, and they were much pleased. During the walk it proved a pleasant topic of conversation, and I trust will not be unacceptable to the readers of your interesting publication, for I think they will not only see the goodness of God in this trifling circumstance, but something else. The steam of the "cup that cheers but does not inebriate" was made into nutritive drink for the support and enjoyment of the Fly, and its lively quick motions showed that it truly enjoyed it; whereas the steam of the still, threading its way through the serpentine tube covered with water, is converted into liquid poison, and hurts instead of nourishing the fly (moth) which is allured by its deceitful attractions, and thus dazzled becomes bewildered and frequently destroyed, soul and body; and more (sad even as this is), he suffers not alone, as many, ah! too many, dear children can tell. Add to this how painful it is, to

remember that they perished by their own hand. In the melancholy
but true words of Armstrong, we may say, when speaking of such :
"Despised, unwept you fall; who might have left

"A sacred, cherished, sadly pleasing name;
"A name still to be uttered with a sigh,
"Your lost ungrateful scene has quite effac'd
"All sense and memory of your former worth."

Therefore let us who have bid adieu to all such destroying drinks, be thankful, and live closely to our privileges, and do all we possibly can to induce others to come with us, and persuade them in the language of love: at the same time to remember, that even in such apparently trifling things as a small fly and small clouds of steam, lessons of wisdom may be found, and whilst thus remembering, may we, with uplifted and grateful hearts exclaim, "O Lord, how manifold are all Thy works, in wisdom hast thou made them all!"

C. W. P.

HAGGAI.

No sooner had Cyrus passed the decree for the Israelites to return to their own land, and rebuild the temple, than they began to make preparations for their departure. At an appointed time they met to the number of fifty thousand, with camels, asses, and mules, bearing provisions for their long journey, donations in money, and the precious burden of the vessels from the temple which had been taken to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar. Zerubbabel, the grandson of King Jehoiachin, and their future governor, was their leader. They were to be governed by their own laws, under subjection to Persia, and under its powerful protection.

When they arrived at the end of their journey, they soon began to lay the foundation of the temple. Shouts of joy from the younger members of the community were mingled with the loud lamentations of the aged, who, remembering the glory of Solomon's temple, and comparing it with the dimensions of the second building, regarded it "in comparison as nothing." An opposition to the undertaking was soon made by the Assyrian colonists, who had been sent to replace the captive Israelites, and had intermarried with those who had remained in their native country. They were now known by the name of Samaritans, and because the Jews refused their asstance in building the temple, they impeded its progress; and, after the death of Cyrus, put a stop to it entirely by the false accusations which they made at the court of Persia.