Scala Santa-praying to saints and pictures, like the poor heathen to their gods. One day at Rome, Palm sunday, I saw men taking great lots of flowers into a church to be blessed, and Teresa brought one of them home, but God doesn't want flowers there, but praying and preaching. I pray for all my friends that I can remember, and I would pray for the Pope too, but I haven't time; I ask God to teach him to pray for himself. If I saw him I would give him an English Bible.' "Do you love Jesus yourself, Freddy?" "No, I don't think I do love Him." "Well, I love him better than I love you." He flew to me and kissed me many times. "But why do you love me more for saying I love Jesus, and yet you say you don't love him, had I not better stop loving him too?" "Oh no, no!" he said earnestly, "don't stop, never stop loving Him. Love him on, till I get my new heart, and then I'll love Him with you."

We were left alone at La Tour while the rest had gone to the Synod of the Vaudois Church at Pomaret, the first meeting since their emancipation, and one of the most memorable in their eventful history. All felt that a new era had begun; the Valley-men could breathe freely now, for their church had realised its

old motto, LUX LUCET IN TENEBRIS. Dr Revel preached from "Can ye not discern the signs of the times?" The parish priest, who was there all the time, said he could scarce have done better himself!

Freddy went out for a walk; we sat on the grass by the side of a stream, the high hills around, each with its legend of martyr days. He had sung with other hymns

"Where are now the Hebrew children?

Safe in the promised land.

They passed thro' a fiery furnace

Safe to the promised land."

While at play he cried, "Look at this how it creeps so slow up the bank! What is it so red and bright with feet on the top too, and two heads." To tell him we had to take more than one look, for it was a large beetle of a long shape, and on its back lay a poor sick or dead one just like it. We could not see life in it, and should have brought it home with us, but Freddy thought that would not be kind, as the live one had brought it up a long way, and all the time we could stay still went on up the hill with its weight. looks just like you, when you have to put up your feet

"It

on the seat, and get tired before we come to the inns

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at night;" he said laughing. “Now I wish I could be as kind as that beetle When be got near the house, he saw a poor chili who eccli nut wilk or move laid in the that in a mall cart, to have the air : and then one which we snag and well came out from a door to be kind to it, and kept of the beat of the sun while she took it back to its boase. * What does that good child pat you in mind of Freddy -I think it is just like the kind beetle. When we get home will you tell me the story of the little Vaudois who was so kind to her mother, as you cannot take me to see the silk-worms to-day !"

And each day this had to be told him till we got back to Georgy, who came to us soon after our return to England, begging to hear the whole of what his brother had told him in part so often over :

Marie and the Silk-worm.

Marie was a good child who had no one to love or care for but her sick mother. To please her and help her was all her wish, and in one thing she could help her well-to keep the silk-worms. By this some of the poor Vaudois live, and no silk brings so high a

price as what they have to sell.

Silk-worms were not at first found on these hills; they came here from China. They say the first ones came to Greece with two monks, hid in sugar canes.

One worm and its ball of silk Marie had never lost sight of, since it had come out of the egg where it had lain six months. Its small house was not more than the size of a pin's head, and it came out of it with eight pair of feet. Marie gave it leaf after leaf, and had to go for these to the mulberry tree outside the house. It ate night and day so much and so fast, that in a month an ounce weight of leaves was gone. It had eaten 60,000 times its own weight, and burst its skin more than once, till it was nearly 100 times as heavy as at first. Then it drew from itself its thread of silk, and wound it round and round, till in ten days the thread was six miles long. And now Marie and her mother must keep sight of this worm and the rest night and day, to watch the time when it shall stop its work, for then it must be put in a hot place near the fire to die, that so they may get the silk. If this be not done, Marie knows a dull moth will take the place of the worm, and the ball will be cut by it as it flies out, and the silk will all be lost.

One night Marie's mother tells her to go to bed, and she will sit up to watch the silk-worms. But the kind child saw her look so tired, she said, she must have the first sleep, and herself she will sit and watch the balls. "Then Marie must not shut her eyes once till I wake, but take down the old book from the shelf and learn some new lines of the Noble Leçon." It is an old, old Vaudois poem, which each child used to learn, and which kept the truths of God's word pure in their church through long, long years when all but the Vaudois had gone the way of the Church of Rome. Marie had to get by heart these lines :---

E aver ferma sperancza al Reg celestial

Que a la fin uns alberge al sea glorios hostal:

Ma aquel que non fare co que se conten en aquesta leirion
Hon intrare en la sancta maison.

Firm be our hope in the heavenly King

Who will lodge us at last in his glorions Hotel :

But he who will not do what this lesson reveng
Shall not enter into the holy home,

She had said she would do as she was hd, and sha meant to do it. But her eye lida gram suna, mad tha lamp grew dim, and she thought, she might, ak, Jonest, lay down her head to wuch the di'y mom's ball