Audrey. O, how horrible! But who do this?

Miss O. It began chiefly among the Germans, but it has spread unhappily so much into England, that it is not impossible that you may meet with some books tainted, more or less, with these opinions. There are many translated from the German, which I am afraid are a good deal spread about; and I believe there is much English poetry which, in a subtle, concealed manner, conveys the same kind of infidel principles, speaking as if all religions were alike acceptable, and as if one was not more true than another.

Audrey. What is to be done?

Miss O. I can only say, be on your guard, and cease to read any book, however interesting, which may seem to be touched with the evil. Flee from it, as St. John did from the heretic.

Mary. Mother says she will never take in a book that men bring in numbers to the door without asking Mr. Bertram about it, for Miss Philips took in one that she thought very nice, and all about religion, and she had it so handsomely bound, and when Mr. Bertram saw it, he said it was a very bad book indeed.

Helena. Ah! I remember papa came home so vexed and grieved about it, he did not know what to do.

Audrey. Well, this is more dreadful than any thing I ever heard. I shall be afraid to read anything.

Helena. O, there are the old books all safe.

Miss O. And luckily between the reviews and the reports we hear of them beforehand, we can generally judge whether a book is safe by the time it comes into our hands. Besides, you would none of you read a book without permission from your elders.

Helena. No, of course not.

Audrey. It is as sad as the old infidel times we read of at the beginning of the French Revolution.

Miss O. That infidelity seems to have been a reaction

after the errors which the Romish Church imposed on men as articles of faith. She taught that the whole, falsehood as well as truth, legend as well as Scripture, must be accepted, and that any doubt was sacrilege. Then came a reaction, and those unhappy philosophers believed nothing, because they had been required to believe too much.

Helena. You mean Voltaire, and Rousseau, and all those people.

Miss O. Yes, those who set up Reason instead of Revelation, and whose latter days were misery.

Audrey. Ah! the Revolution showed what those opinions came to. And are those things going on stìll? Miss O. I fear the same evil is still at work. We know that the enemy is ever trying to sap the foundations of our faith, and as French infidelity was partly the fruit of the. corruptions encouraged by Rome, so the present German infidelity is the fruit of casting away all guidance of the Church in matters of faith.

Audrey. And must it always go on so?

Miss O. Has it not been written that 'evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived?'

Audrey. O, godmamma!

Helena. Ah! I know it is written, too, 'When the Son of Man cometh, shall He find faith upon earth?'

Audrey. Ah! but there shall be some faith on earth, for the Church is always to last. The gates of hell shall never prevail !

Miss O. And it is not possible that the elect should be deceived, if they will but endure steadfastly to the end, and hold fast and firm to their own true and precious Church, and the faith which came from their Lord and His Apostles, to be kept, and to keep us even to the end of the world.

The girls stood up to go, but Audrey kissed Miss

Ormesden without speaking, and as soon as she had turned into her own path away from the others, she put her hands together, and said, half aloud—'Almighty and Everlasting God, who hast given us Thy servants grace, by the confession of a true faith, to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in the power of the Divine Majesty to worship the Unity: We beseech Thee that Thou wouldst keep us steadfast in this faith, and evermore defend us from all adversities, Who livest and reignest one God, world without end. Amen.'

(To be continued.)

THE CARDIOSCOPE.

'Does all he does with single mind,

And thinks of others what is kind.'

Sacred Hymns from the German.

It is generally allowed by those who know anything of the laws of electricity, that it is a science which is yet in its infancy, and there is reason to believe that as its nature is better understood, even greater wonders than those of the Electric Telegraph will be the result. It was long a favourite project of my own (though entertained with many scruples as to its lawfulness and expediency), to make use of electricity in the construction of a new instrument, to be called the Cardioscope.

All my young readers are by this time familiar with an instrument called the stethoscope; and are aware, perhaps, that the name is derived from two Greek words, which mean 'a view of the chest,' by which instrument the physician is enabled accurately to ascertain whether the chest of the patient is in a healthy or an unhealthy state, and, if diseased, to what extent it is so. The term Cardioscope, is likewise derived from two Greek words, and means a view of the heart.' As the nature of electricity is extremely subtile, I found, as I expected, that by applying my instrument to the region of the heart,

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I could at once ascertain the thoughts which were passing through it; the wire of which it is composed is so delicately fine as to be almost imperceptible, so that no one, not even the person who is operated on, is conscious of its application. One end of the wire I apply to the heart, and by holding the other end with the tip of my finger and thumb, the electricity acts in such a manner on the nerves, which, as every one knows, all communicate with the brain, that I immediately become aware of what is passing in the mind of the person on whom I operate.

Triumphant as my success has been, in bringing the cardioscope to this state of perfection, my readers will perhaps hear with surprise that I never mean to communicate to an individual the principle on which it is constructed d; nay, I have almost come to a determination to destroy it, for, should it ever be suspected that I possess such a thing, I am aware that I should be universally shunned; besides which, the sorrow and vexation its discoveries often occasion me, far outweigh the satisfaction I at first felt in my success. I shall, however, commit to paper, for the benefit of the wise, some of the strange things with which I have become acquainted. It need be no matter of surprise that I found much evil in so corrupt a fountain, though I also found, to my comfort, that in some instances the bitter waters had been turned to sweet.

It was not long after I had succeeded in bringing the Cardioscope to perfection, that I received an invitation to spend a week with some friends who lived in one of the prettiest parts of England. The family consisted of Mr and Mrs Folkstone-the name of my friends-three grown-up daughters, between seventeen and three-andtwenty, and some younger children still in the schoolroom and nursery. As I think it helps to rub off the rust and counteract the habits of selfishness which one contracts by living much alone, to mingle occasionally in society, I decided to accept the invitation. Accordingly

I started, not forgetting, the reader may be sure, to take the Cardioscope with me; for I was delighted with this opportunity of trying a few experiments with it, particularly upon young ladies, who have always been a favourite study of mine, for I feel great interest about the formation of their characters, because I know what immense influence they will have, either as wives and mothers, or as sisters, upon our rougher nature. Do not misunderstand me, dear reader; I do not mean by preaching or laying down the law to us-there are not many of us who can endure that from a woman ;-but by that gentle persuasiveness of their every-day consistent piety, which is, and always has been, the characteristic of our English Churchwomen.

And now that I find myself staying in the same house with three young ladies, and have expressed such a particular interest in them, that there may be no misapprehension as to our relative position, I don't mind telling the reader, in confidence, that I have been conscious of late, when I look in the glass, of a pretty sprinkling of grey hairs; besides which, the hair-dresser gave me a slight shock the last time he cut my hair, by assuring me that I was getting quite bald just on that part of my head which every one can see but myself. I overheard one of the young ladies, too, the day after I arrived, saying something about dear old Mr. Gregory,' as she passed the door of the room where I was sitting; the word 'old' grated rather harshly on my ear, but I forgave it for the sake of the kind epithet which accompanied it; besides, it was Kate's voice, I knew, and it was impossible to feel angry with her.

day I arrived, they But it is impossible a few days, without

I was charmed with all three the all seemed pleasing and kind alike. to be an inmate in a family, even for perceiving little shades of difference where at first there seemed none. Accordingly, I soon observed, to my sor