work in the world's great harvest, and receive the labourer's reward.

Not alone does the holy man who stands in the pulpit, put in his sickle; but the upright man behind the counter does the like. And they rejoice together as they bring home the triumphant sheaf.

If, some eighteen centuries ago, we had, on an evening like to some of the softest and calmest of our summer evenings, stood among the crowds which assembled from Galilee, from Decapolis, from Jerusalem, from Judea, and from beyond Jordan, we should have seen, sitting on a rising knoll, the form of the Son of Man. From his lips we should have heard many golden precepts and gracious words; among them this-"Be ye perfect, even as your Father, which is in heaven, is perfect." And to the thoughtful among that multitude, the dark green cedars of Lebanon, and the verdant slopes of the dewy hill of Hermon in the purple distance; the blue waves of the tideless lake of Tiberias, with the town of Capernaum on the right; the waters of the great sea meeting the horizon on the left; would have formed an eastern landscape, which, with grand and universal echo, would have reverberated this doctrine of the Great Teacher. Every flower that clothes itself with dress of richest hue, every bird that builds its snug and complete nest, are evidences to us of the perfect work of a perfect God.

God leaves no work immature. Whatever He puts his hand to, is consummate. Follow the humming bee to its cell, and mark the regularity which reigns in that insect kingdom. How marvellously the whole works together and accomplishes that whereto it was predestinated.

Do we ask why? The answer is given in all forms, in all colours, and in all sounds; from flower, and tree, and bird-Because each part is perfect, the whole is harmonious.

But if this condition of the natural world is so pleasant, ought we not with finer feelings, and richer enthusiasm to exclaim, "Mark the perfect man, and consider the upright man, for the end of that man is peace;" not only the total end of his life, but the end of each action of it. The tending of every part of it is euphonious, and so the end thereof is harmony.

Peace can only arise from perfectness. Have you not, my brothers, felt the truth of this, when in some sober moment you have stood amidst the beauties of this summer-time, in silent admiration? Everything in nature marches on with synchronous step, and there is no irregularity. If we would make our lives pass pleasantly without discord, and with as little of harshness as may be, we must set our hearts on doing all we do perfectly. We shall have greater satisfaction in doing a little well, than attempting much in a desultory and scrambling manner. If we would form just and accurate views, we must remember that we are sentient as well as thoughtful beings. We have a heart as well as a brain, and it is only when these act perfectly that we can obtain perfect results. The man who trusts too much to his heart may become fanatical; he who places too much confidence in the inductions of his brain, stands in danger of vanishing in transcendentalism. Both may disappear from the region of the practical; the one by sinking below it, the other by flying above it. The via media is the highway of common sense. Let us at the onset determine to trudge this road. It is the safest, and will most securely lead us to the end of the world. Let our fast neighbour drive on in his phaeton, and smile at our satchel and staff, unenvied. We will tread our way step by step in safety, with a whole summer joy in our heart, and a cheerful summer heaven above. We shall grow old and weary; the night of death shall close in around us, but it will only disclose the silver writing which the hand of the recording angel has

traced on the blue page of the sky; and as we gaze on the register of the past-broad, perfect and glorious --a Saviour's hand shall wipe away all tears, and our sorrow shall be turned into joy.

Bearsted.

S. G. J.

COUSIN EDITH.

BY ALICE

HAWTHORNE.

Chapter III.-Showing how a loss may be a gain.

SOON after little Hetty's funeral, Edith and Minnie called at the dwelling of her parents. The weather being warm, the door stood half open, so that the cousins had a hasty glance at the room before their entrance was perceived. At the table sat the father, with a book, which Minnie fancied looked like a Bible, open before him, and which he was evidently reading; but on the first sound of footsteps, he hastily shut the volume, and pushed it as far from him as he could.

Edith and Minnie met with a more than usually civil reception from him. For some time past his manner towards them had gradually softened; their kind and unceasing attentions to his little girl, had made some impression upon his feelings, blunted as they were; and there was now a quiet seriousness in his manner, produced perhaps by the remembrance of his child's death, which contrasted strangely, but pleasingly, with his former rough and uncourteous behaviour. His wife was washing in the back kitchen, but she came forward when she heard the young ladies' voices, and was so over-profuse with her thanks and praises, that Edith was weary with listening to her, and tried to turn the subject by speaking of something better.

It was not difficult to do this; but it was difficult to elicit any interest, or heartfelt response from Mrs. Brown. She assented to all that was said with perfect readiness and equal indifference; she wished to please her visitors, and was therefore willing to pronounce as true whatever they chose to assert. When Hetty was referred to, she put her apron up to her eyes, but no tears came; and she talked of her in terms of endearment, which she certainly had not used towards her while living. Her husband

said but little; but there was an evident sincerity in his few remarks, which was far more agreeable than the talkativeness of his wife. The book which he had been reading upon their entrance was a Bible, for it was near Minnie, where she sat, and she unconsciously took it up to look at it. Mrs. Brown noticed the action, and said, "That's a nice Bible, isn't it, Miss? it was given to us once by Joe's master; and he was a trying to make out a chapter of it as you came in, for he learned to read a little when he was a boy; but I'm no scholar, I'm sorry to say."

Joe did not seem best pleased at his employment being thus unequivocally stated; not that he was ashamed of it; he was too proud and independent for that; but his natural honesty of character made him shrink from appearing to manifest an interest which he did not really feel. With a slight embarrassment of manner he quickly added, "I've nothing, you see, to employ me all day long, so that I'm glad to do anything to help to while away the time a bit; not that I find much to amuse me in the Bible; its dull reading at the best, and I can't understand much of it; but we've hardly got another book in the house, so its that or none; and then I promised Hetty that I would read a few verses every day; it was a fancy of the child's, but I had not the heart to cross her when she was so ill; and a promise, even though it be a foolish one, is a promise; especially now that she's gone."

"Yes, it is," said Edith, gently, "and you will never find reason to regret having kept it, Mr. Brown; your little girl felt the comfort which God's Word gives to those who really believe it, and she wished that you should feel the same."

"Ah! she was a good child, too good to live," said the mother, "and therefore God has taken her to heaven."

"Oh no, Mrs. Brown," said Edith; "Hetty loved the Saviour, and trusted in Him, and longed to be like Him; and for his sake, for the sake of what He suffered when He was on earth, she has been admitted into heaven. Her sins were all washed away in his blood, and her heart was changed by his Spirit; and Jesus is ready to do just the same for each of us, if we are only willing. And why shouldn't we be as happy, and as patient, and as loving, as dear little Hetty was ?"

Edith went on to say a little more in her own winning and persuasive manner, about the way of salvation; and Hetty's parents could not but feel that her remarks came forth from a warm and loving heart; from a heart that was anxiously desirous that they should be sharers of that peace which herself and others enjoyed. Minnie listened, and learnt something. She learnt that the Spirit of the Gospel is a spirit of love; that it leads us-not to be angry with the sinner, nor to denounce

vengeance upon him, nor to reprove him with the self-righteousness of one who practically says, "Stand by, for I am holier than thou;" but to compassionate the wanderers from Christ's fold, and to plead with them, earnestly and tenderly, that they refuse no longer to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. "God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved."

The promise made to his dying child was faithfully kept by Hetty's ignorant and irreligious father; and there was a perceptible, although very gradual improvement, to be traced from that time in his general habits. He became more sober and industrious; was oftener seen cultivating his little garden than carousing in the public house; and he and his wife were frequent, if not regular in their attendance at the house of God. Mrs. Brown too, stimulated perhaps by her husband's example and kinder behaviour, began to keep herself and her cottage tidier and cleaner. But all this was by very slow degrees; so slow, that Minnie sometimes grew impatient and dissatisfied; and thought, if she did not say so, that the results were hardly commensurate with the pains that were taken. The rapid development of the Christian character which she had witnessed in little Hetty, had made her expect the same speedy and visible effects to be produced in other cases. She forgot that the good seed, even when it is sown in the heart, is sometimes very long in manifesting itself above the surface. She forgot also, how slowly she herself received and understood the doctrines of the cross; and how very imperfectly her own character was moulded by their influence. Do not suffer yourself to be discouraged, dear young reader, either by the tardy success with which you meet in your efforts to benefit others; or by the repeated failures and disappointments which you experience in your attempts at selfdiscipline. Long-indulged and sinful habits are not easily overcome; nor do Christian virtues spring all at once into maturity. "You have need of patience." "Behold the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and the latter rain."

It was Edith's lovely example which first awakened in Minnie's mind the desire to know more about the religion of Jesus Christ; and now, that Minnie had chosen like Mary, the good part, and was willing to sit at the Saviour's feet, and to learn of Him, she found her cousin a great help to her, both in correcting her mistakes, and in encouraging her efforts. A kind, wise, and judicious friend is often of incalculable benefit to young persons. "Oh, what should I do without you!" exclaimed Minnie one day, after she had been consulting her cousin upon some difficult point; "it is so nice to have you always living with us,