get to the boat before the soldiers come. You see where the roads part, close by the orchard; I want you to run down towards the shore, and meet the soldiers, who are sure to ask for me, and then you must tell them that I am gone up the road to catch the mailcart, and they will turn off the other way."

Hetty. "But, cousin, how can I say so?-it would not be true. Oh, why did you tell me which way you were going?"

Griswold. "Would you betray me, Hetty, and see me put to death? Hark! they are coming. I hear the clink of the horses' feet: tell them I have gone up the road, and Heaven will bless you."

Hetty. "Those who speak false words will never be happy; but they shall not make me tell which way you go, even if they kill me—so run as fast as you

can.

Griswold. "It is too late to run. Where can I hide myself?"

Hetty. "Be quick, cousin, come down and lie under this cloth; I will throw it over you, and go on sprinkling the linen."

Griswold. "I will come down, for it is my last chance."

He was soon hidden under the heavy folds of the long cloth. In a few minutes a party of horse-soldiers dashed along the road. An officer saw the girl, and called out to her in a loud voice

"Have you seen a man run by this way?"

Hetty. "Yes, sir."

Officer. "Which

way did he go?" Hetty. "I promised not to tell, sir."

Officer. "But you must tell me this instant, or it will be worse for you."

Hetty. "I will not tell, for I must keep my word.” "Let me speak, for I think I know the child," said a

man who was guide to the party.

Guide. "Is your name Hetty Marvin ?"
Hetty. "Yes, sir."

Guide. "Perhaps the man who ran past you was your cousin ?"

Hetty. "Yes, sir, he was."

Guide. "Well, we wish to speak with him; what did he say to you when he came by?"

Hetty. "He told me that he had to run to save his life."

Guide. "Just sowill not have far to run.

himself?"

-that was quite true. I hope he Where was he going to hide

Hetty. "My cousin said that he would go to the river to find a boat, and he wanted me to tell the men in search of him that he had gone the other way to meet the mail-cart."

Guide. "You are a good girl, Hetty, and we know you speak truth. What did your cousin say when he heard that you could not tell a lie to save his life?" Hetty. "He said 'Would I betray him, and see him put to death?'”

Guide. "And you said you would not tell, if you were killed for it?"

Poor Hetty's tears fell fast, as she said "Yes, sir.”

Guide. "Those were brave words, and I suppose he thanked you, and ran down the road as fast as he could?"

Hetty. "I promised not to tell which way he went, sir."

Guide. "Oh, yes-I forgot; but tell me his last words, and I will not trouble you any more."

Hetty. “He said, 'I will come down, for it is my last chance.'

Hetty was now in great fear; she sobbed aloud, and hid her face in her apron. The soldiers thought they had got all they wanted to know, and rode off to the river-side.

While Griswold lay hid at the farm he had agreed upon a signal with his boatmen, that if in trouble he would put a white cloth by day, or a light at night, in the attic-window of his hiding-place, and when either

signal was seen, the men were to be on the watch ready to help him in case of need. No sooner did the soldiers ride away than Griswold's friends in the house hung out a white cloth from the window, to warn the boatmen, who pulled out to sea, when they saw the red coats of the soldiers as they dashed along the riverside.

The boat, with two men in it, was nearly out of sight by the time the soldiers got to the shore, and this caused them to think that Griswold had made his

escape.

Meantime he lay safe and quiet until the time came for Hetty to go home to supper. Then he bid her go to ask her mother to put the signal-lamp in the window as soon as it grew dark, and send him some clothes and food. The signal was seen, the boat came back, and Griswold made his way to it in safety.

In better days, when the war was over, he named his first child Hetty Marvin, that he might daily think of the brave young cousin whose sense and truthspeaking had saved his life.

(Copyright—contributed.)

THE MEETING PLACE.

REV. HORATIUS BONAR, D.D.

WHERE the faded flower shall freshen,—
Freshen never more to fade;
Where the shaded sky shall brighten,-
Brighten never more to shade:
Where the sun-blaze never scorches;
Where the star-beams cease to chill;

Where no tempest stirs the echoes

Of the wood or wave or hill:

Where the morn shall wake in gladness,
And the noon the joy prolong;

Where the daylight dies in fragrance, 'Mid the burst of holy song:

Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where no shadow shall bewilder;
Where life's vain parade is o'er;
Where the sleep of sin is broken,

And the dreamer dreams no more; Where the bond is never sever'd ;Partings, claspings, sob and moan, Midnight waking, twilight weeping, Heavy noontide-all are done: Where the child has found its mother, Where the mother finds the child, Where dear families are gather'd

That were scatter'd on the wild!-
Brother, we shall meet and rest
'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where the hidden wound is healed,
Where the blighted life re-blooms,
Where the smitten heart the freshness
Of its buoyant youth resumes:
Where the love that here we lavish
On the withering leaves of time
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on,
In an ever spring-bright clime:
Where we find the joy of loving
As we never loved before,
Loving on, unchill'd, unhinder'd,
Loving once and evermore:-
Brother, we shall meet and rest
'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where a blasted world shall brighten Underneath a bluer sphere,

And a softer, gentler sunshine

Shed its healing splendour here;

Where earth's barren vales shall blossom,
Putting on their robe of green,
And a purer, fairer Eden,

Be where only wastes have been :
Where a King in kingly glory,

Such as earth has never known, Shall assume the righteous sceptre, Claim and wear the holy crown :— Brethren, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest. (By permission of the Author.)

REV. H. H. MILMAN, D.D., DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S.

BROTHER, thou art gone before us,
And thy saintly soul is flown
Where tears are wiped from every eye,
And sorrow is unknown.

From the burden of the flesh,

And from care and sin releas'd, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest.

The toilsome way thou'st travell'd o'er,
And borne the heavy load;

But Christ hath taught thy languid feet
To reach His blest abode;
Thou'rt sleeping now, like Lazarus,
Upon His father's breast,

Where the wicked cease from troubling,

And the weary are at rest.

Sin can never taint thee now,
Nor doubt thy faith assail,
Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ
And the Holy Spirit fail;