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of eventide, brightens the freshness of his morning face. It lifts man above himself : the best of our prayers are in its language, in which our fathers and the patriarchs prayed. The timid man about to escape from this dream of life looks through the glass of Scripture, and his eye grows bright; he fears not to take death by the hand, and bid farewell to wife and babes and home. Now, for all this there must be an adequate cause. That nothing comes of nothing is true all the world over. It is no light thing to hold a thousand hearts, though but for an hour; what is it, then, to hold the Christian
world, and that for centuries ? Are men fed with chaff and husks? A thousand famous writers come up in this century, to be forgotten in the next; but the silver cord of the Bible is not loosed, nor its golden bowl broken, as Time chronicles its tens of centuries passed by. Has the human race gone mad? Some of the greatest institutions seem built upon the Bible; such things will not stand on heaps of chaff, but on mountains of rock. What is the secret cause of this wide and deep influence? It must be found in the Bible itself, and must be adequate to the effect."
DOMESTIO SERVANTS :
A PAGE FROM A MISTRESS'S EXPERIENCE.
HAVE been a mistress above a quar. be the reverse, in my service. They distinctly ter of a century, and cannot from understand, before they are hired, that they personal experience join in the al- must be at their work by six o'clock. The
most universal complaint against difficulty of falling into early habits is soon maid-servants. Having in my youth a whole- over. They often thank me for taking the some dread of tyrannical cooks, who never trouble of calling them up, and say they find suffer their “missus” in their kitchen-and of the good of it themselves. Of course, they those stately nurses who only allow a young get to bed by half-past nine every evening, mother to visit her baby's nursery once a day, except on occasions; and if one has to sit up and then not to enter without knocking-I later now and then, she is called proportionearly tried the experiment of teaching and ably late next morning. I never allow per. training at least one young girl, from fourteen quisites, and all applicants for my service are to seventeen. One of these, after nearly seventeen years of good and faithful service-with, When living in London, or other towns, soup of course, progressive wages and position-is was regularly made in my kitchen for the poor. now leaving to be married. Others have done In the country, the cook brings me the money very fairly. The present “Bunch" of my for any surplus dripping: which money is put household, after a year's training, improves aside for charitable purposes. My servants every day; for which I have greatly to have always been ready to co-operate with me thank the excellent housemaid, under whom in these matters; never objecting to a little "Bunch” is more immediately placed in her extra work or trouble for the sake of those not novitiate.
so well off as themselves. Somewhat elderly now-a-days, and more apt
When within a reasonable distance, their to be amused than frightened by any amount parents or other relations are at liberty to of servantgalism-à la Punch–I still like to come and see them, always provided I am duly have young people about me. My motto, both told of the guest's coming. Equal permission with children and servants, is “Strictness and to visit their friends in moderation is granted kindness.” On hiring my maids, who, with to my servants. They have also time to do the exception of a “Bunch,” I prefer to be, on their own shopping, and regular afternoons to first coming, between twenty and thirty, care
sew for themselves. But men-followers in the is taken to explain my old-fashioned notions kitchen, or frequent holidays, I do not allow : of what the relations between us should be, reasoning thus—“ Young ladies at school, or as the exact nature of the work expected from governesses, are never permitted to have gen. them, and the rules to which they must con
tlemen-visitors, or requent holidays out: nay, form. I frankly set before them what they even in some schools parents can only see their may find disagreeable, as well as what should daughters at stated intervals. Why should
more liberty be necessary for you than for our of green fields and sheltered lanes on the children and governesses ?” When relations Lord's-day, when they remember who walked live at a distance I give, once a year, a holiday, with His disciples through the corn, on the from a week's to a month's duration, as wished, Jewish Sabbath, 1,800 years ago. deducting nothing from the maid's wages For the benefit of those matrons who com. during her absence.
plain that their domestic grievances are not How this system works is best explained by sympathised in by their husbands, and of the fact that my servants are generally satis- those maids who draw invidious comparisons fied with their situation, and take an interest between their master's and their mistress's in the family. One said to me lately, “We manner towards them, mode of speaking, &c., had far more liberty in our last place, ma'am, I will be yet more egotistical. My husband but were not nearly so comfortable.” We nerer finds fault or interferes with the women. keep no indoor men-servants. A “Hooks-and- servants, but he is extremely particular as to Eyes”-in other words, a “ Bunch”- --can carry everything being properly done, and naturally up coals as well as any “Buttons;" while we expects me, as general officer of the household prefer a neat-handed “Phillis,” in moderate brigade, to see that everything is properly crinoline, snowy cap, cuffs, and muslin apron, done. I point out to my staff, that if their
Jeames,” in all the glory of red plush, work is neglected or slurred over, I, as mis. portly calves, and powdered hair.
tress, am liable to deserved censure from the Believing the old adage, that “service is no master, and have rarely found this argument inheritance,” we encourage our maids to lay to fail in the desired effect. by a portion of their wages in the savings' I have had some inefficient and indifferent bank, and they rapidly experience the benefit servants, but my experience, on the whole, has of any self-denial such a practice may cost been on the bright side. Through frequent them. The only sumptuary laws I enforce are illnesses, trials, anxieties, and the anguish against feathers, flounces, double skirts, and attendant on death, these humble friends have an exuberance of crinoline.
shown affection and consideration towards me My servants have plenty of work to do, re- and mine. Sympathy, kindness, and selfceiving no help whatever, except the occasional respect on the part of mistresses, go a great cleaning of the outside of a window by the
way towards breaking the ice of distrust and coachman or under-gardener, both of whom suspicion among servants. Reasonable disci. get their meals in the house. But all have a pline, a firm yet gentle exacting of obedience fair portion of wholesome recreation. Even to rules, goes far to improve an ignorant mind, in the country there are Industrial Exhibitions, and tame an insubordinate spirit. while innocent merry-makings are not tabooed. Mothers! however blest with worldly riches, They have books, such as “ Uncle Tom's Cabin," train up your daughters to know something of or “Robinson Crusoe,” with some of the best house-management and servant-government. cheap periodicals of the day.
There is too much croquet-playing, devotion They take an interest in the advent of a to dress, and gadding about, especially among young calf or a brood of chickens, and while the middle-class young ladies of the day, to modestly sharing our own enthusiasm about give an earnest of having better servants in horses and meek-eyed cows, they do not despise the next generation. Gentlewomen! study the humble pigs on the premises. No doubt your servants' tempers, so as not to provoke such simple tastes and pleasures, diversified by them to wrath. Scold them less and pray
for gathering in the early fruit of the season, or
Bear with them if you expect helping the young ladies to water pet plants, them to bear with you. If we all, whether arrange nosegays, or trim off the faded roses, mistresses or servants, strove to remember seem vapid and humdrum to the class of ser- and act up to the simple command, “ All vants accustomed to the excitement of casinos things whatsoever ye would that men should and music-halls--poor girls! most of whom do to you, do ye even so to them,” there would are more to be pitied than Llamed.
be fewer heart-burnings, less barping upon My younger maids read a little with me on
grievances, whether real or imagined, and we Sundays; all go to church, either once or twice should, one and all, do far better our “duty in a day, and may have a good walk besides. It that state of life unto which it hath pleased is a marvel how a few excellent people can God to call us." see anything sinful in breathing the fresh air
HEART CHEER FOR HOME SORROW.
THE WILD ROSE AND THE CORN-FIELD.
THE MYSTERIES OF PRAYER.
as the fair roses of God's harvest-field. He It was the end of June: the tall, green has all beauty wherewith to clothe you, ears of wheat, not yet ripened by the golden Spirit-graces which shine brighter as the sunshine, waved gently in the breeze, and body decays.
body decays. Though withheld from all gave promise of a most abundant harvest; active service, you shall be living witnesses while the air was filled with the delicate for Him. Your love, your patience, your scent of the wild roses, which hung in pro- gentle thankfulness, shall be a holy, soothfusion over the leafy hedge.
ing influence to all around; while you may Those beautiful roses ! how graceful were never know here below how many a holy the festoons formed by their light green | thought you have awakened in the hearts of boughs! how pure the tender blush, which others, and how, when you seemed to be an touched their pearl-like blossoms! The little idler, you were really working in the choicest child who played beneath the hedge, had part of the Lord's vineyard. rejoiced in their wild profusion, and learned
ELIZABETI BICKERSTETH. his first infant lesson of thanksgiving, as he praised the God who made the lovely flowers. The maiden, with her heart so quickly re- • Thy way is in the sea, and Thy path in the great sponsive to the touch of beauty, had looked
waters, and Thy footsteps are not known.”—
PSALM lxxvii. 19. at them till soft tears filled her eyes, as she
I ask'd for grace to lift me high, thought of the fulness of beauty which must Above the world's depressing cares; dwell in Him who could make earthly things God sent me sorrows: with a sigh so fair. The anxious, careworn child of sor- I said, “He has not heard my prayers.” . row had looked on them with a lightened heart, I ask'd for light, that I might see repeating to herself the sacred words, "If God My path along life's thorny road, 50 clothed the grass of the field, should He
But clouds and darkness shadow'd me not much more clothe you, Oye of little faith?"
When I expected light from God. But the rose knew nothing of all this.
I ask'd for peace, that I might rest She hung there in her unconscious beauty,
sacred duties o’er, and drooped her fair head in sorrow, because
When, lo! such horrors fill’d my breast
As I had never felt before. she was useless to all; whilst the waving corn before her would supply the food of hundreds.
“And oh," I cried, “can this be prayer Yes, the corn would supply the bodily Can this be Heaven's prevailing care,
Whose plaints the stedfast mountains move? wants of hundreds ; but had the rose done
And, O my God, is this Thy love?” less in ministering to the higher wants of
But soon I found that sorrow, worn man's immortal spirit-in teaching thank
As Duty's garment, strength supplies, fulness to the child, devotion to the maiden, And out of darkness meekly borne patient confidence to the poor ? God had Unto the righteous light doth rise. clothed her with beauty, and by that beauty And soon I found that fears, which stirr'd she fulfilled His work.
My startled soul God's will to do, Even thus is it with many of His children
On me more real
Than in life's calm I ever knew. upon earth. They would fain, as the cornplant, be employed in some mission of Then, Lord, in Thy mysterious ways manifest usefulness. They would feed the
Lead my dependent spirit on,
And, whensoe'er it kneels and prays, hungry, clothe the naked, and relieve the distressed. But His providence forbids it.
Teach it to say, “Thy will be done." Sickness, or some other hindrance, withholds
Let its one thought, one hope, one prayer,
Thine image seck-Thy glory see; them from the work; and they hang their heads
Let every other wish and care, in sorrow, under a painful sense of uselessness. Be left confidingly to Thee. Not so, afflicted Christian! You may be
JOIN S. B. MONSELL, LL.D.
thing in her face that alarmed Beatrice-80 “There is a reaper whose name is Death.”
sallow, so sunken, so wan, and with such a LONGFELLOW.
strange dim wandering look in the eyes-it TEATRICE!”
was so different to her usual cold, hard, ex“Yes, papa! Did you want me?”
pression. The old harsh dry manner, too, had “I wish you would manage to go
given place to trembling weakness and nerrous over to Miss Vivian this afternoon." excitement. And this change had taken place “To-day! If you particularly wish it, papa,"
in only twenty-four hours, for Beatrice had said Beatrice, rather hesitatingly. “I have
seen her the day before looking much the same an engagement, but”
as usual. Her heart now sank at the sight “ "I do particularly wish it, if you can possibly before her. manage to go. She is very unwell, Beatrice, Papa says you are not well, dear Miss and very unlike herself to-day,--so nervous
Vivian," she said gently, kneeling down by the and excited. She ought to have some one with
chair, and taking one of the wasted bony hands her besides Bentley, and I can send no one but
in her own. “I have come to take care of you."
“You are a good girl, Beatrice," was the Beatrice stood thoughtfully a minute,- answer, in a restless dreamy tone, “but you “I must send word to Mrs. Thompson that
can't do anything for me; no one can." I cannot come to her this afternoon. Could “Dear Miss Vivian, I don't understand," you leave the note as you pass by, papa ? then
said Beatrice, anxiously. “I love to take care I will go to Miss Vivian at once."
of you. Why can I not do anything for you?" “I think it will be best. I am afraid she is
“No use," muttered Miss Vivian; then rousfailing fast, Beatrice. I should not be sur
ing herself a little, she added, « There's prised now at any sudden change. In a few nothing to make a fuss about, Beatrice; Mr. hours we shall see if this is anything; if she Wentworth is always inclined to croak,should be taken worse, you can send for me at
always thinks the worst of everything. And once.”
after all he didn't say much. I am only Beatrice shivered slightly.
little—a little feverish, to-day. Bentley made “Papa, do you think so badly of her as that?', me eat too much dinner. She is ruinous in “I hardly know what to think; she may
her ways." rally and be quite herself again in a few hours, Bentley had been in the room on Beatrice's but as I tell you, I shall not be surprised what- entrance, and was now leaving it. She paused ever happens. She ought to go to bed, but a moment at the door, and shook her head neither Bentley nor I can persuade her to leave sadly at the last words, giving Beatrice a the drawing-room. You must use your in- glance full of meaning. fluence."
“But if you are feverish, dear Miss Virian, In a few minutes Beatrice was dressed, and would it not be better to go to bed ?" asked traversing the streets with a rapid step; in Beatrice, soothingly. “ It would rest you far three-quarters of an hour from the time her more than staying up. You look so tired." father first spoke, she was at Vivian Mansion. “I shall go to bed at my usual time-not Miss Vivian was in the drawing-room in her before. I never have for years, and I don't usual armchair, but leaning back heavily, intend to begin it now," said Miss Vivian, try. as if she had no power to sit upright; and from ing to speak in her old dry tone, but she failed. the first moment she saw her, there was some- for her voice shook, and a low groan escaped her.
“Are you in pain, Miss Vivian ?” Beatrice
you don't under. gently inquired.
stand.” Nonsense,” said Miss Vivian, testily. “It “Has anything happened to try you?” is only-only- You worry me, Beatrice. I asked Beatrice, gently. can't talk."
“Nothing you can understand; it is of no Beatrice was silent, and for a minute or two use to talk, Beatrice,” was the reply, in a Miss Vivian was equally so; but then she peevish tone; and another silence followed. started, shuddered, and groaned again; and Beatrice remained where she was, without in the dull gathering twilight of that gloomy stirring a finger, for nearly ten minutes, and room her face appeared to Beatrice to wear an then she was startled by a sudden remark from unnaturally pinched, worn, haggard expres- her companion, in low faltering tones, very sion. Beatrice rose to her feet with sudden different from her usual voice,resolution,
Beatrice! Leonard Vivian was right!” "Miss Vivian, I am going to call Bentley, and
“ About what?” asked Beatrice, calmly, we will help you into your room. You must though greatly alarmed by the tone and let me, for you are not fit to sit up."
Even Miss Vivian's spirit-broken by weak- “ You know, Beatrice, very well. He was ness and suffering-yielded to the calm com- right. What was it that he said ?” continued mand of her tone and manner, and she made Miss Vivian, in a low dreamy voice of supbat feeble opposition. Bentley was summoned, pressed pain.
pressed pain. “Something about lending to and she and Beatrice together supported the the Lord. I have never lent anything to God, feeble, aged, tottering form into the bedroom. Beatrice." So weak she seemed, that Beatrice thought “Dear Miss Vivian, that is not the question more than once she would have fallen to the for you now,” said Beatrice, pressing her ground in their short transit across the passage,
hand. You must not think of the money, but the business was at length safely accomplished. Once there, however, Miss Vivian's “Ay, it is easy to say, don't think,” said resolution returned, and though she submitted Miss Vivian, in the same low strained absent to being partially undressed, and placed in the tone, and again she repeated,—"Beatrice, I deep, low easy chair, in which she could lie have never lent anything to God, -never given back almost as on a sofa, she utterly refused to Him anything,-neither money, nor time, nor go to bed, much to Beatrice's disappointment. talents, nor anything that belonged to me. Remonstrances and entreaties were alike use- He owes me nothing in return. He has noless, and, thinking the excitement of the debate thing to pay me again. I never lent Him was more hurtful to her than even sitting up, anything-never, Beatrice !" they ceased to urge it. Bentley left the room, Miss Vivian, if God gives us any reward after obtaining a promise from Beatrice to call for what we do in His service, it is not because her in a moment if she were needed.
we deserve it. Forgiveness and salvation are Beatrice drew a low chair to the side of Miss free gifts, offered alike to all. Vivian, and sat down silently to watch and Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast wait. Not a sound broke the stillness, except out.' The thief on the cross had done nothing an occasional restless movement or low moan. for God in all his life, yet the moment he For nearly half an hour they remained thus, prayed to Jesus he was forgiven and saved.” and then Beatrice could bear it no longer. " I know nothing about that, Beatrice. At Again there was a groan as if of intense mental least, it is of no use to talk of it to me now. suffering, and she rose and knelt down by the My head is too full of other things. I am not old lady's side, taking her hand to draw her like the thief, for I have known better all the attention.
time. Beatrice, is there not something in the Dear Miss Vivian, won't you let me help Bible about dividing the sheep and goats,you? Will you not tell me what is the matter? those who have given away, from those who If
you feel so ill, had I not better send again have not? What is it? Read it to me." for papa ? or if anything distresses you, may * May I not choose the part I should like to I not know what it is, and try to comfort read?” asked Beatrice, as she drew a Testa. you?
ment from her cket. Lately she had always “Mr. Wentworth can do no good,” hoarsely brought one to the house, in the hope of being returned Miss Vivian. “You are a kind girl,
permitted to read it.