and she trusts to the charity of those who have enough and to spare to supply her further need. She raises her eyes to the wayside Cross, then bends her knee in silent prayer. She would fain lay an offering at the feet of Him Who once hung there; but what office of love can such as she render to this suffering brother? She looks around; there is a fountain near: she takes from her wallet a piece of a broken vessel, her chief earthly possession, and fetches some cool water to moisten his parched lips. He tastes the refreshing draught, his heavy eyelids unclose for a moment, and then close for ever. But the poor wayfarer dies not friendless and alone. He lay down with the Name of the LORD JESUS on his lips, and with the thought of His Cross treasured lovingly in his heart; and the LORD JESUS has received his departing spirit, and His Cross has gained him admittance to a home where he can neither hunger, nor thirst, nor be weary or sorrowful any more.

A sister in CHRIST, too, has ministered to his dying hour. Look at her, ye who complain that ye can do but little; for angels are looking at her, and your LORD hath smiled upon her labour of love. She, that poor beggar woman, hath done all that she could; for she hath given a cup of cold water to one of His suffering brethren, in the name of the LORD JESUS. Go, ye, and do likewise.

THE LAST DAY.

[A hymn of at least as early a date as the seventh century, because quoted by Venerable Bede. It has been thought that the germ of the Dies Ira may be traced in it. In the original it is acrostich.]

Apparebit repentina magna dies Domini.

THAT great day of wrath and terror, that last day of woe and doom,
Like a thief that comes at midnight, on the sons of men shall come;
When the pride and pomp of ages all shall utterly have passed,
And they stand in anguish, owning that the end is here at last;

And the trumpet's pealing clangour, through the earth's four quarters spread,
Waxing loud and ever louder, shall convoke the quick and dead :
And the King of heavenly glory shall assume His throne on high,
And the cohorts of His angels shall be near Him in the sky:
And the sun shall turn to sackcloth, and the moon be red as blood,
And the stars shall fall from heaven, as the dead leaves in a wood :
Flame and fire and desolation at the Judge's feet shall go;
Earth and sea, and all abysses shall His mighty sentence know.
Then the elect upon the right hand of the LORD shall stand around;
But, like goats, the evil doers shall upon the left be found.

"Come, ye blessed, take the Kingdom," shall be there the King's award,
"Which for you before the world was of My FATHER was prepared :
"I was naked, and ye clothed Me; poor, and ye relieved Me; hence
"Take the riches of My glory for your endless recompense."

Then the righteous shall make question,-" When have we beheld Thee poor,
"LORD of glory? When relieved Thee lying needy at our door ?"
Whom the blessed King shall answer,-"When ye showed your charity,
"Giving bread, and home, and raiment, what ye did was done to Me."
In like manner to the left hand that most righteous Judge shall say,
"Go, ye cursed, to Gehenna, and the fire that is for aye:
"For in prison ye came not to Me,-poor, ye pitied not My lot;
"Naked, ye have never clothed Me; sick, ye visited Me not."

They shall say, "O CHRIST, when saw we that Thou calledst for our aid,
"And in prison, or sick, or hungry, to relieve have we delayed?"
Whom again the Judge shall answer; "Since ye never cast your eyes
"On the sick, and poor, and needy, it was Me ye did despise."
Backward, backward, at the sentence, to Gehenna they shall fly,
Where the fire is never quenched, where the worm can never die ;
Where are Satan and his angels in profoundest dungeon bound,
Where are cries, and chains, and flame, and gnashing of the teeth around.
But the righteous, upward soaring, to the heavenly land shall go,
Midst the cohorts of the angels, where is joy for evermo:

To Jerusalem exulting they with shouts shall enter in,

That true" sight of peace" and glory that sits free from grief and sin.
CHRIST shall they behold for ever, seated at the FATHER'S hand,
As in Beatific Vision His elect before Him stand.

Wherefore, man, while yet thou mayest, from the dragon's malice fly,
Give thy bread to feed the hungry, if thou seek'st to win the sky;
Let thy loins be straitly girded, life be pure, and heart be right,
At the coming of the Bridegroom that thy lamp may glitter bright.

THE ROUND CHURCH OF LITTLE MAPLESTEAD, ESSEX.*

WE have been favoured with a copy of a most earnest appeal on behalf of the above relic of "Antiquity, chivalry, and Christian truth," in the shape of a beautiful poem, which cannot fail to touch the hearts of those to whom it is pain to see the LORD's house lying in waste. The round Churches in England were, as our readers most of them know, built in imitation of the Jerusalem Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and belonged to the noble defenders of that sacred spot; and the circular plan, and vaulted concave roof, were designed to represent nothing less than the vast circuit and concave of the heavens.

The present Church was one belonging to the Knights Templars, who were originally instituted before the conquest of Jerusalem, for the relief of sick pilgrims, who by degrees assumed the character of soldier monks, and received their title from S. John Baptist.

The parish of Little Maplestead is described by the author of its antiquities as the now almost deserted village." The following will give our readers an idea of the appeal.

*See frontispiece to this volume.

MANY long years ago, when fields and forests were as well known in merry England as towns and railroads are now, fairies held their nightly revels on earth, and gladdened mortals with their bright but fleeting visits. Down in a little grassy dell, sheltered alike from the scorching sun and cold bleak March winds,

surrounded by a friendly wall of tall trees, and wild shrubs, a forest rose to view. It was a spot where silence reigned unbroken, save by the sweet music of the rippling brook, as it sang its wild ditty in its course to the mighty Thames. How happy it was in its hide-and-seek game, now peeping slyly from beneath the long grass, and now rolling wildly on with joyous bound, crossing the open fields. Perhaps tiny as it was, it knew it was doing its duty in the way appointed, and if so, no wonder it found the path, a path of happiness. Who would think, to look at that blooming little spot, for nature had strewn with unsparing hand many of her own sweet wild flowers there; who would think, that but a short time since, old Father Frost with his chilling breath had been blowing on all around, rendering what was once so fair and blooming, a howling barren wilderness. Surely some fairy must have touched with magic wand, that barren scene, so soon to restore it to all its pristine loveliness. Yes, when the nipping cold bade adieu to the few remaining flowers left to mourn the death of many loved ones, and hourly expecting their own poor little shivering lives to be taken away, the good Spirit of Flowers saw their sorrow, heard their prayers, and sent down from her blue-robed home, a light warm counterpane, which gently descended in its silvery whiteness on the cold earth, warming and nourishing the poor flowers; and when the spirit saw the pretty covering had done its work, she commanded and gradually it disappeared, leaving the earth green and fruitful, the spring flowers cheered and happy. It was after such an event as the foregoing, one bright spring morning, that the Spirit of Flowers flew with the little birds from their warm nests to this pretty spot, where, with her attendant spirits, in the pale moonlight, she had watched over the sleeping flowers, and protected them during the reign of winter from the icy grasp of death.

She came, as was her wont, to receive the morning sacrifice of her little subjects, and never were praise and gratitude more sincerely and regularly offered by mortals to their MAKER, than by these simple flowers to their mistress. As soon as the first streaks of dawn in the east, told of morning's resurrection, the little flowers woke from their slumbers, and rising from their bath of dew, in one harmonious choir shouted with the sons of the morning their sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Melody filled the air, and even mortals often left their couch, and hastened to breathe the air where the flowers were offering up their sweet scented incense. This morning, the Queen of Flowers (who was invisible to her earth-born subjects,) lingered over a little shady retreat, where beneath the leaves of a huge dock plant, one of her especial favourites dwelt. And this spring the

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good Fairy having given her a young family, wished to see what kind of a mother the little flower of last year's growth would make, how her nursery would be conducted, and which of the many plans of education afloat, Dame Violet, for so our little friend was called, would patronize. Not that the good spirit supposed for a moment the young manima would willingly choose a bad system, or follow the fashion which at that time was raging in Flora's kingdom, of bringing the little ones up under no system at all, letting them "choose for themselves," right or wrong, as fancy led them, which unluckily was always wrong, as the parents to their sorrow found when they beheld the wild, untrained, useless lives their offspring led, and saw to what artificial means mortals had to resort, in order to cultivate and educate their neglected sprigs." But their good Queen believed the family of Violets to be too humble and obedient a race ever to fall into very gross error on the subject of education; still she knew how young and experienced the little flower was herself, and how unruly young shoots are by nature, and all this made her anxious as to the result. She therefore watched over this little family, with the care and tenderness, and jealousy of a mother, when the following circumstances passed under notice; how far the good spirit was satisfied with her little subject's management, we may be able to gather from what we have heard, and what remains to be told. It was not many moments before a little head, encased in the green hood of infancy, from which but very little, as yet, of its purple face was seen, peeped from beneath the friendly dock leaf; Eh, dear mamma, what a very strange place this is," exclaimed the owner of the green hood: the exclamation brought another little head stretched from the long grass which surrounded its mother's home, and another and another, till quite a group of young violets were pressing over each other's heads, to look at the new world. Dame Violet, who of course followed her little brood in their exploring expedition, gazed around on the many sprigs calling her "mother," with almost a look of bewilderment. "What should she do with such a family, how should she keep them in order, and thoughts of enlarging the bounds of her habitation, and other maternal solicitudes were crowding on her poor little. brain, when the cry of her children for information, concerning the world they saw before them, brought her back from the future to the present. "Look, look, mother," cried her firstborn, "see those large things, how tall they are, when shall we be as large?" "Those great things, my dears, dressed in green,' replied she, " are called trees, you and I are of a more humble race, and will never arrive at their stature." "Why not, mother? I am sure we are as good," cried another young gentleman,

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