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advancing to meet me with the lost book in her hand. "She was tall and slight, and wore a dark dress of simple shape, and very common material. Her countenance, although very youthful, was calm and pale, as of one who had known sorrow, and to whom suffering had brought something of that peace which "passeth understanding,'

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"I will not apologize," said she, in English, but with a decidedly foreign accent, "for having carried away your book; it would have suffered more from being exposed to the heavy dew than passing the night in my cottage, even had I been less delighted to meet with an old friend that reminded me of happier days." She offered me the book as she spoke, but I drew back. "Pray keep it longer if it gives you any pleasure," I said. "You will doubtless have an opportunity of returning it to me before I leave this neighbourhood." "Thank you, thank you," she answered, adding sadly, "those only, who, after a long separation, meet with such a friend as this know all the value of the recovered treasure; but I fear I shall be depriving you of it ?" "No, indeed;" I exclaimed with an earnestness which was perfectly sincere; "I am too glad to have been the means, even accidentally, of giving you so much pleasure, and you can easily return it to me, as I seldom pass a day without coming here." "I know it," she answered, slightly blushing, as if fearful that I should suppose she had been watching our movements. "When first I saw you in those dear old ruins, which no one except myself has ever seemed to visit, I was almost tempted, except that I feared to be intrusive, to join you in your prayers. I am so lonely here, and I thought none, except Catholics, would have cared to pray in a building built and consecrated by men of a faith which English people now despise and condemn."

"We are Catholics," I answered; adding, as I observed the gleam of satisfaction which lighted up her features, "Anglo-Catholics; members of a true branch of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church." "I am a Roman Catholic," she answered coldly, yet with a touch of sadness in her voice, as if she still longed for sympathy even from us; and we walked on for some time in silence. I offered her my hand at parting. "I wish that you

could have joined in our prayers," I said, "but we will not forget that you are a stranger here, and lonely, and if there is any way in which I can possibly be of service to you, or any other book you would like to borrow, do not hesitate to ask for it.' She thanked me, and we parted, with a real wish, on my part at least, that we might soon meet again.

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The fair foreign girl, and my romantic adventure, as my brother and sister persisted in styling our meeting, afforded us a topic of conversation for several days. We met afterwards, occasionally, and sometimes sat together in the beautiful old church; where, as she told me, she had often passed entire days before we came there; and I found out that it was she who had so carefully cleared the chancel from weeds, and trained the ivy round the window-shafts and broken arches. A few days had passed without our meeting, when the little rosy-cheeked girl who had first sent me to the cottage in quest of my book, came running to tell me that the poor foreign young lady had sent to beg that I would pay her a short visit: the child had seen her only for a moment, but she said the young lady had been crying, and she thought she must be ill. I accompanied her little messenger with feelings of redoubled interest and anxiety, and on entering the cottage, I was struck with the total absence of all ordinary comfort which it displayed. A small crucifix of black and white marble stood on one side of the narrow room; and an uncurtained bed, a couple of tables, a few books, and one or two chairs, formed the sole remaining furniture. The young girl rose from before the crucifix, as I entered, holding out her hand to welcome me, and I was shocked at the change which so short a time had made in her countenance. She was deadly pale, and there were dark lines around her eyes, and finely-chiselled mouth, which could have been traced only by severe mental or bodily suffering.

"You are ill," I exclaimed, 66 or in sorrow ?" "Well in body," she replied, "but sick-oh! sick to death at heart," and for a moment she turned away from me, and hid her face in her hands; stifling her sobs with a quiet, patient endurance, such as is rarely met with in

one so young. My own eyes ran down with tears, my voice faltered, as I earnestly implored her to tell me if there were nothing I could do to comfort her.

"It was

for that I sent for you," said she, in a voice that was calmer than my own; "I will make no excuse for doing so, because I believe that your words were not idly spoken, and that I may confide fully in your sympathy and kind"You may, indeed," I answered, " as far as my power to help extends: but I fear you will find it very limited."

ness."

She raised my hand to her lips, with a mute expression of gratitude; and as we sat at the foot of the crucifix, which had been so long her sole companion and treasure, she told me all the sad history of her short, but melancholy life.

(To be continued.)

YE BUTTERFLIE. (A FABELLE.)

A MOTHE bedycked in colores faire and brite
Sayled forthe for plesure on a fummers daye-
Hys littule hearte was gladde and paffing lyte
As hee didde wing hys carelefs joyfulle waye.

Nowe hee wolde wantonne wyth a modefte flowerre
And boldlie kyfs its trembling droopyng hedde,
Nowe hee wolde fojourne in a fayrie bowerre
Orr fypp fwete nectarre from a violett bedde.

Nowe hee wolde hoverre oer a sparklying streame
And gayze uponne hys forme reflectedde theyre,
Then waking frome hys gaye conceitedde dreme
Wolde blythlie floate uponne ye balmie aire.

At lafte ye daye 'gan wayne away apace
Ye fayre fun tynged ye diftant hylls wyth redde,
But ftill hee ranne hys plefure-feeking rayce
Nor entered care intoe hys giddie hedde.

Eftfoone ye twylite graye bedimmed ye scene,
Each birde ftole foftlie to its downie nefte,
Colde dewes arofe uponne ye hylls foe grene
And infects gay frome their brite flyttes had refte.

And nowe this littule flye thinkes hym of home,
Thinkes of hys nooke fo fnugge on gardenne walle,
Alaffe! hys path is all enwrapped in glome,
Night-chylles and darkness grymme hys hearte appalle.
Benumbed wyth colde a fhelterre fayne he'd seeke
Beneath fome friendlie flowerres droopyng cuppe,
Fatigue and colde hath made hym paffing weake,
From ye wette earthe hee cannot roufe hym upp.
Alaffe! Alaffe! a heartless birde of nyght
Dothe feize hym as hee colde and tremblyng lies,
Crushed is ye forme which erft was fayre and brite,
Wrything and quivring in its beake hee dyes!

YE MORALLE.

Good readerre! do not fcorne my fymple tayle,
But een theyrfrome a usefull moralle drawe,-

When giddilie on plefures fea you fayle

Think of ye poore mothes end, thinke thenne of pale deathes jare.

H. ATTWELL.

THE BISHOP OF NEW ZEALAND'S MELANESIAN MISSION.

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PASSING Eaooi, or Middleburg Island, we followed Cook's sailing directions with perfect confidence, till a native pilot boarded us, and took charge of Her Majesty's ship. Then, for the first time, as we threaded through the narrow passages of the coral reef, I saw the marvellous beauty of colouring which has been so often described the deep blue of the unfathomable sea; the dazzling whiteness of the surf breaking upon the reef; the delicate tint of light green on the shallow waters of the lagoon; and, on shore, the tufted fringe of cocoa-nut trees overshadowing the native villages, each marked by its row of canoes, drawn up upon a glittering beach of coral sand. There are, no doubt, some portions of the Mission field, and especially Sierra Leone,-where true faith and Christian courage is required in the Missionary, liable, as he is, at any moment to fall a victim to the "pestilence that walketh in darkness, or the sickness that destroyeth in the noon-day;" but in these favoured islands in the Pacific, as well as in New Zealand, I must say, without disparagement to the zeal of our Mission

aries, that the self-denial would be shown, not in residing in them, but in consenting to leave them. The ordinary drawbacks arising from human infirmity and sin, must be the same everywhere; and it is most true that every Mission-field is not the paradise which it seems to be: but to any one who has been conversant with parochial duty in an English town, it becomes impossible to think of a residence in our lovely islands as an exercise of ministerial self-sacrifice. It is a pure enjoyment to walk round such an island as Tonga, passing along open and level paths, shaded by groves of cocoa-nuts and bananas, and halting, from time to time, in some grassy glade, where a wide-spreading ovava, with its thousand clustered stems, marks the meeting-place of the chiefs; and where the slender Toa (Casuarina,) crowded with enormous bats (beka,) droops over the coral tombs of the dead. A walk of a few miles more through the same shady paths, lighted up with glimpses of a cloudless sun, and rustling with the restless trade-wind, brings the visitor to a village, where the incessant tapping of the mallets used for beating out the native cloth, gives an air of industry and cheerfulness to the place. Every house is partially concealed under the shade of its own fruit-trees, and within its light fence of reeds; but the stranger may freely enter everywhere, and finds a hearty welcome wherever he goes. On going down to the beach, the maritime habits of the islanders are seen; fine double canoes, drawn up under spacious sheds, each with its mat-sail and large steering paddles carefully laid by its side, lying ready for use on state occasions, and for long voyages; with a swarm of smaller canoes, some drawn up upon the beach, and others passing to and fro upon the smooth water of the lagoon. It was a noble sight to see King George and his fleet of war canoes on a visit to the Navigator Islands. He is a worthy "Lord of the Isles," and his fleet, entirely of native style and workmanship, is worthy of its monarch.

At Tonga, as in every other Mission field of late years, a special interest is felt in the education of the young. It was found-in some cases too late that men converted to Christianity in adult age, seldom acquire that regularity and systematic steadiness which is necessary for the education of the young. It was a natural, though a most

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