up their eyes, and giving audible utterances to their ejaculations. Now these persons may be, and I doubt not often are, truly pious: but the impression made on most minds by this affectation of religious solemnity, is that they are hypocrites; who aim at being thought uncommonly devout. It appears to me, that religion never appears so lovely as when, like in the case of Mrs. Wade, she wears the dress of perfect simplicity. We ought not, indeed, to be ashamed of our religion before the world, but it behoves us to be very careful not to give to others an unfavourable opinion of serious piety. The rule is, "Let your light so shine, that others seeing your good works, may glorify your Father who is in heaven." "Let not your good be evil spoken of." Mrs. Wade lived over the fourscore years. But her piety was scriptural, growing, living, discernible, and lasting. Full of faith, that happy spirit sank to rest in the year 1853 or 1854. When just near the close, she asked a dear daughter to open the window, saying, "Free access! free access!" and thus the spirit winged its way to the Christian's bright Home in glory. I dearly loved and valued this pious old lady. When very young, I remember her telling me Bible stories, and asking me to learn and repeat little texts and hymns for her. She was sowing the good seed in my young heart, and doubtless in the hearts of many more; and now she has reaped her full and soul-satisfying reward. Reader of SPARE MINUTES, do you desire her piety? neglect not the means by which she attained to it. 1st. The Bible study daily. 2nd. Earnest and frequent private prayer. 3rd. Daily meditation; and, 4th. Self-examination. There can be no real heartfelt piety without these four things. If you admire her character, then imitate her devotion and selfdenial. There is no obstacle that may not be surmounted to hinder you even from outstripping her. The prize is before you. The race is pointed out. See, at its termination, a crown of glory beaming in your Saviour's hands. Does it not fire your soul? Does it not fill your eye? Does it not brace anew your nerves ? Fix your eye on the mark of the prize of your high calling. Consider all the ground you have passed as nothing, so long as the goal is at a distance, so long as you come short of perfection in Christ Jesus. Her remains, with those of her loved ones gone before, repose under the east window of St. Thomas's Church, in the surrounding churchyard, Marlborough Street, Dublin. "There's a beautiful land on high, LERRIE; OR, LINKS IN A GIRL'S LIFE. BY BIRDIE E. S., Author of "Birdie's Mission," &c. ALICE WATSON was intensely relieved by her departure, and entered into a conversation with the somewhat gushing style that was habitual to her, but Lerrie thought there was something less cheerful than usual in her manner. Tea being over, she soon rose to leave. "I suppose we shall not see any of you at the prayermeeting? “No, I am afraid not," Dora answered, looking out ruefully on the calm, fresh twilight scene. "It will be quite dark by the time you reach home," Janet said anxiously. "Oh, I am not afraid, thank you. I am used to going about alone, you know. I am afraid I dreadfully shock some ladies' sense of propriety.” So she lingered for several moments, as people do, (not ladies exclusively) for a few more words, in spite of the gathering darkness. "Here is Mr. Trueman, then!" Dora announced as Alice was really going. "Now you'll have company!" Yes there, sure enough, came Mark. He had just left work, and had gone round to see if any tidings had been gained of the sick man. He was in his working garb, and had a basket of tools slung over his shoulder; but still, as Lerrie thought once more, "he looked every inch a gentleman." There was an indescribable air about him, very far from being proud or haughty, but noble and truly manly, perhaps it was that the high thoughts and aspirations of his heart pervaded every action, and that he ever strove to forget himself in his work. He declined Janet's invitation to go in, but set off with Miss Watson. He made no apology to her for his rough attire, at which Lerrie rather wondered; but then, he was always the same, in whatever dress he appeared, which is more than can be said of every one. "What an admirable couple they make!" Dora remarked, as she turned from the gate, and went back in. Lerrie lingered a moment at the gate, thinking, until Janet called her, and she went in, and they gathered round the fire. Their chat was soon interrupted, however, by the sound of wheels, and they hastened to prepare tea for their tired parents. The first look at their father's face told them the sad truth that their uncle was no more. "Yes, he is gone," Mrs. Ring said, as she sat down; "he died this morning, soon after we arrived." "Oh, how dreadful it must be for Norah to be there!" Dora cried. "She bears up wonderfully," Mrs. Ring replied. "I wanted her to come home to-night, but she would not leave her aunt, and they seem to cling to her almost for support. I am afraid she'll wear herself out." "Don't worry about her," Mr. Ring said as he entered, "I am quite proud of her. She must come home as soon as the funeral is over." His voice grew rather husky: this brother had been very dear to him. They had been early left fatherless, and together had struggled to gain a place in the world, but with one difference; Mr. John Ring had been of an anxious disposition, while his brother took things more calmly, and strove less after worldly wealth. "Is Aunt Dennorth there?" Dora queried. 66 Yes, but she will return home to-morrow, and come back again for the funeral. Philip will come too, I daresay," Mrs. Ring added, for Lerrie's benefit. The few days which intervened between that solemn and eventful day of death, and the even sadder day when they were to inter the body, passed quickly by; and the friends and relations of the departed one stood around the grave, and bade farewell to the familiar face, leaving it there to its last, long repose. The Later on, Philip and Lerrie walked home together. latter was sadly thoughtful. For the first time since she could remember, she had stood beside the open grave, and seen a dear friend lowered into it, and death had seemed more real to her than it had ever done before. But now it was over, and Lerrie was going back home, the arm of her lover was supporting her, and she felt the warm blood pulsing through her veins, and suffusing her cheeks at his low tones: she was going back to her love dreams and her happiness, to the life that seemed so long and bright. Lerrie felt as she had done on another day, when she stepped out from the dark shadows and strange quiet of Miss Greeve's dwelling, and went back to her old life, after that glimpse into that strange existence, almost isolated from pleasure, that seemed hardly of the earth. CHAPTER VIII. Ir was Sunday, a beautiful, balmy, peaceful June day, and through the open door of the little Bethel, at Elmore End, stole in the streaming sunlight, and the songs of the feathered choirs in the woods outside. Within, there had gathered a band of children, teachers, and friends, who were met on a special occasion, for, as they had just been singing, it was "the joyful anniversary day." The Superintendent was speaking now, and with the earnestness that always characterised his manner, almost intensified. He had taken for a text the verses in that grand old book of the wise man, "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. "She is more precious than rubies; and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Her ways are ways of pleasantnesss, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her; and happy is every one that retaineth her.” Clearly and faithfully the zealous teacher tried to lay before them the highest meaning of those exhortations, and plainly he asked the question, "Have we all found this wisdom ? " His eyes wandered over the assembly before him, over the band of children and their friends, and at last they met Lerrie's. His words awakened those uneasy feelings in her heart again, and there was a troubled look in her eyes which Mr. Trueman seldom saw there, but which awakened a gleam of hope in his heart that she might be led to seek salvation. She listened earnestly to his words, as they fell from his lips, simple but eloquent, from the zeal which inspired them. "Oh, my dear young friends," he said, as his gaze rested on the band of glowing, happy faces before him, "life seems very long and very fair to you now, the road looks very bright and inviting, but in a few years, when your journey is almost done, you will look back on your brief span of life, and feel how short it has been. Then, if you have not found this wisdom, if you do not love and serve the Saviour, how sad it will be for you to go down the hill of life, into the grave, without the prospect of a longer and happier life beyond. "But it need not be so. Does not Solomon tell us that she is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her; and happy is every one that retaineth her? 5 You see, the Bible doesn't promise us happiness without this: no. We may seem to be very happy, and God does not intend that we shall have no happiness. He wants to give it to us, but if our joys are of this world, they will soon fade. They may seem to be very real, and very lasting, and we may treasure them with all our hearts, but they are all the time passing away. There is no real or lasting happiness in this world, except to those who are happy in Wisdom. If we seek this, we are told we shall be happy. 'Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. There were many more words of earnest appeal, and then the "choir" rose to sing. The words swelled with a thrilling cadence from the clear young voices, that beautiful hymn, 66 'Go thou, in life's fair morning, go in the bloom of youth, ""Tis worth all earthly things." Lerrie almost doubted the words, as the beautiful service ended, she wandered out into the wood, leaning on Philip's arm, as she thought of the happy days that had sometimes been hers, of the bright, love-lit prospect which seemed to be stretching out before her; but like a shadow on this picture of happiness fell the remembrance of the words she had just heard, "They are all passing away." Yes, it was passing, just as the twenty years of her life had passed away already, and Lerrie remembered many bright, happy days, days of pleasure that had seemed so real while they lasted, yet had quickly passed away. Lerrie," said the pleasant voice at her side, as, somehow, that voice, and thoughts of it, did break in on almost all Lerrie's serious reveries now. "How quiet you are to-day!" "I was thinking, Phil." "What of?" he questioned, with a lover's privilege. "The Service just now." "It was pretty enough, less wearying than an ordinary service." "What do you mean?" Lerrie looked up into his face in some surprise. "There was no long sermon to tire one," he answered, laughing. "Sermons ought not to tire you," she answered, with more earnestness than playfulness in her tone. He laughed again. "They do, my little preacher; I must plead guilty to often being possessed with a desire to get up and run away to some place where I can stretch my cramped limbs, and yawn with impunity." The tone in which he spoke, and the attitude of mock deprecation, was almost irresistibly comic, but Lerrie did not laugh. She withdrew her hand from his arm, and stooped to gather some ferns. And she was thinking, "Why should sermons weary him, if they are such a comfort to Mr. Trueman ?" Somehow, Lerrie often found herself drawing comparisons between these two men. "How dreadfully earnest Mr. Trueman was, this afternoon," she remarked, as she made a little bouquet of wild flowers. |