DURSLEY.

The Rev. C. H. Awdry examined the Boys', Girls', and Infants' Schools, in Religious Knowledge, on May 5th. His Report will be given next month.

Universities' Mission to Central Africa.-Mr. A. C. Madan is intending to return to Zanzibar early in July, having been in England nearly a year for the benefit of his health. There will be a meeting in the Victoria Hall on Tuesday, June 9th, at 8 o'clock, when he will give an account of the work of the mission. The Rev. W. H. Penney, organizing Secretary, will also be present. Few who heard him can have forgotten the stirring earnest words of the Ven. Archdeacon Farler, when he preached in this Church in January last, in behalf of this mission, and will be interested to know that he has again sailed and is now on his return voyage to Zanzibar.

The monthly meeting of the Church Temperance Society was omitted during the absence of the Rector, but the members of the Band of Hope met as usual in the Infant School-room on May 19th.

The following Donations for "The National Aid Society" have been received by Mrs. Stoughton, Delegate.

May 29-Florence Lucy, daughter of Andrew and Mary Anne Hancock,

Birmingham.

,,-Sarah, daughter of Alfred and Elizabeth Gibbons, Troedyrhiw, near

Merthyr.

MARRIAGES.

May 23-Peter Rudge and Eliza Heath, both of Dursley.

25-George Baker, Cam, and Lucetta Green, Woodmancote, Dursley.

BURIALS.

May 30-William Shipway, Organ's Entry, aged 77 years.

-Ellen Reilly, Union House, aged 57 years.

THE COW!

UR excellent friend is what naturaliste call 'a ruminant.' She chews the cud; in other words, she remasticates her food. Her eyesight by day, and her hearing, are acute. She also has a fine sense of smell and taste, whereby she is enabled to choose the good and refuse the evil. This power sometimes fails her, as when she feeds on yew and is poisoned. We are told that oxen can eat 276 plants and reject 218. Meadow-sweet, which is wholesome to the goat, is death to the cow.

In his delightful book on the quadrupeds of our country, Mr. Bell quotes a very pleasant passage from Mr. Youatt. There is a peculiarity,' says he, in driving the ox-team in Devonshire which is very gratifying to the stranger, and the remembrance of which the native does not soon lose. A man and a boy attend each team; the boy chants that which can scarcely be regarded as any distinct tune, but which is a very pleasing succession of sounds, resembling the countertenor in the service of the cathedral. He sings away with unwearied lungs, as he trudges along almost from morning to night; while every now and then the ploughman puts in his lower notes, but in perfect concord. The chanting is said to animate the oxen somewhat in the same way as the musical bells that are so prevalent in the same country.'

The charge of stupidity urged against this admirable family is unfounded. The usefulness of the ox is not exceeded by any animal in the world. The milk of the cow affords the most wholesome food known to man. It is a beast of burden in many places. It can prosper in the frozen North, as well as under a tropical sun; and when it is dead, its flesh gives us most excellent meat. Its hoofs furnish us with glue; its horns are used in various ways; its bones are a good substitute for ivory; its hair is mixed with mortar; its hide makes capital leather. In fact, there is not a part of this valuable creature's body which does not serve mankind in some way or other. G. S. O.

A SWEET TEMPER.

O trait of character is more valuable in a woman than the possession of a sweet temper. Home can never be made happy without it. Let a man go home wearied by the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word dictated by a good disposition! He is happy, and the cares are forgotten. A sweet temper has a soothing influence over the minds of a whole family. Where it is found in the wife and mother, you observe kindness and love predominating over the natural feeling of a bad heart. Smiles, kind words, and looks, characterise the children, and peace and love have their dwelling there. A sweet temper is more valuable than gold; it captivates more than beauty, and to the close of life it retains all its freshness and power.

COUNTESS HELENA.

THE EVE OF THE BATTLE.

'But whispering tongues can poison truth.'

N those stirring times of fierce excitement, the few weeks which had elapsed since the declaration of war seemed like ages. The French army had advanced rapidly towards the Rhine; and each day brought fresh news of hurried marches and even rumours of the enemy's success, until all Germany was in a state of painful suspense.

It was late on Wednesday, the 3rd of August, and a division under the Crown Prince of Prussia-a great army in itself—was moving quietly and rapidly onwards by the bank of the river Lauter, the frontier of France and Bavaria. It had been a long, weary day, and the men were thoroughly exhausted when they received the welcome order to encamp for the night. All was to be done with the utmost silence and secrecy, as they were almost within sight of the enemy, with whom an engagement was expected on the morrow. It was an exciting thought, and the men were full of enthusiasm; but overcome with the day's fatigue, most of them slept as calmly and soundly as though they had been in their peaceful homes.

Amongst those who were less fortunate was one young officer, our old friend, Max Eckermaun. He was full of anxious thoughts, not of the future, but of the past; for never since the day on which he parted from his lady-love in the old house at Mayence had he received any tidings of her. Yet he had twice written to her; the first time full of hope and youthful confidence, with no doubt of her ready sympathy; the second time only a few imploring lines, begging her to say how he had offended her, and to tell him his fate.

But both letters had remained unanswered, and this silence was very bitter to endure. What could have become of the Countess Helena? Had her friends more ambitious views for her, and did they refuse their consent to her engagement? But even had this been the case, surely, in simple charity, she might have sent a few brief words to put him out of his misery.

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He was still absorbed in these sad reflections when he was roused by a voice near him calling his name, Lieutenant Eckermann!'

He started in surprise, for he had thought himself quite alone, as he stood there bare-headed at the door of his tent in the clear, still starlight. Looking round, he saw close by his side a soldier whose face seemed familiar to him, although, at the moment, he could not remember who it was.

His first thought was that some command had come to him from head-quarters, and he asked eagerly, with a sudden revulsion of feeling and a longing for active duty, 'Have you a message for me?'

Hush, sir!' replied the other in a whisper, holding up his finger as a warning of secrecy. 'Come under the shelter of this bank, where we shall not be heard.'

Countess Helena.

The young officer complied, still under the impression that some order from the authorities was to be privately conveyed to him.

What is it?' he inquired, as there seemed to be some hesitation on the part of his companion.

'Do you not remember me? I am Walter Linz from Mayence, and I thought you would like to have news of your friends.'

Max remembered the name at once; the man had been employed at one time by the Burgomaster, and his heart beat quick with a tumult of hope and expectation at the thought that now he should learn all that he longed to know.

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'Tell me,' was all that he could trust himself to say.

'I saw Herr Schmidt and his good lady only a few weeks ago, and the young Countess Helena too, on my way up the river, the day I left Mayence. They were all in the best of health and spirits.'

On your way up the river?' exclaimed Max. Do they not live in the old house still?'

They are all spending the summer at the old tower on the Rhine, which belongs to Count Julius von Krukenburg.'

He paused for a moment to see the effect of his words, but Max had sufficient self-control to hide the sharp wound which he had thus suddenly received. He had always had a dim suspicion that this Count was a rival of his, but it came upon him as a painful surprise that his lady was thus, as it were, in the enemy's camp.

However, he summoned up courage to reply calmly, 'It must be a pleasant place for the summer. Is that all your news?'

Linz was rather taken aback by this composure, and felt that he must have done his work clumsily.

'Not quite all,' he answered. There will be a grand wedding soon, for I have it on the best authority that the Lady Helena will be Countess von Krukenburg before the summer is over.'

And were these the tidings you thought I should be glad to hear?' exclaimed the young officer, stung beyond all endurance, as he turned away with undisguised contempt.

Forgive me, sir,' cried Linz, humbly, while he followed him towards the tent. I should have broken the truth to you more gently had I known how you would take it to heart. Forgive me for having been unwittingly a messenger of evil. Believe me, if I could serve you in any way

'Yes, I forgive you,' interrupted the young officer, touched by the man's penitent tone. 'How could he know? Why should I be angry at being told the truth?' he asked himself as he paced restlessly up and down. 'Oh, Helena! Helena! to think that you should have deceived me thus!'

Wearied out at length, he sat down and buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed with the deepest despondency. A strange presentiment of coming evil crept over him. Would the morrow bring defeat and death to that gallant army around him? No, no! that might not be, whatever else was possible. The defenders of the

Fatherland must be victorious, and if in the hour of victory he himself should fall, what nobler fate could be his? What more could he desire? Should he be called to live on, when he had thus