wee should, and thou alone both wiselie doost know, and effectually canst grant, not onelie what we do desire, but a great deale more then we can thinke vpon, our praier shal be vnto thee our God, that according to thy promise, thou wilt poure vpon vs the Spirit of grace, and praier, which maie with vnspeakeable groaninges make intercessió for vs, that not with lips onely, our hearts being far from thee, but with minde and mouth togither, we may vnfeinedlie, as becometh true worshippers in Spirit and truth, with a burning affection of the hart cal vpon thee, which art the true and eternal God, and offer the gratefull sacrifice of thankesgiuing.

'Prepare thou our minds to praier, make them zealous, least otherwise we bee like suche as praiyng tempt God. Therefore in our praiers, let vs not dissemble like Hypocrites, neither boast of our wel dooing like Phariseis, to bee seene of men, but onely set foorth thy glorie, and aduance thine holie name.

Turne our heartes from beholding either images or strange Goddes, or else dead Saints, but let vs worship and onlie serue thee in our praiers, which art our lord God, creator of al things, searcher of the heart, and riche towards al that cal vpon thee.

'Instruct our mindes, that wee desire not foolishlie vaine and transitorie things. But let vs alwaie craue corporall things, according to thy will, with this condition, if they bring none hurt vnto our soules: and euermore prefer celestiall things, which are to be asked without al exceptien, before worldlye that our ioye may bee perfecte in the heauens.

'Grant therefore, almightie Father, that wee may certeinlie perswade ourselues, that whatsoeuer wee shal aske at thine hands through faith, we shall obteine the same, and let vs neuer doubt of thy fatherlie affection towards vs, or bring thy willingnes to grant our petitions| into question, but through a liuelye faith, and firme confidence, let vs constantlie beleeue, that our praiers shall effectuallie be heard through and for thy Christes sake, in whom al thy promises are, yea, and are in him, amen.

Furthermore, if at any time our praiers be not granted speedilye according to our wish, giue vs a strong faith, that we faint not, but

may through patience expect thine aid, knowing that comming it will come, and thy truthe wil not linger.

'Gouerne therefore our harts by thine holy spirit, that we appoint not a time, maner, or limits of helping vs, but may in al thinges submit our selues to thy most heauenly pleasure, and commend our praiers vnto thee in hope and silence, for thou wilte not misse an houre, but wilte come at a time conuenient.

'Likewise illustrate our mindes with thy light, that wee caste not foorth our praiers trustinge in our owne righteousnesse, but in thy manifold mercies, through Christ, by whome wee haue boldnesse by faith, to approch vnto thy throne, and to call thee, Abba father.

'Gouerne our harts and mindes, that in praying wee neyther presume nor trust vpon our own worthinesse, and so through pride contemne others: but let vs humblie and louinglie like brethren pray one for another, that wee al may be saued.

"Take away from vs al babling and superfluitie of words, that we be not as Ethnikes, which for their long speech, think to be heard.

'Assist vs also, that the sight and remembrance of our owne vnwoorthines doo not terrifie vs from praier, and that wee be not let by other causes, from earnest crying vnto thee night and day, that the wil of thy seruants, and reuenge of thine elect may be fulfilled.

'Now therefore, heauenly father, and eternal God, giue grace, that in all places we may pray, lifting vp pure hands without wrath or doubting, and saie, Forgiue vs our trespasses, and with deepe sighings, and sure confidence continually persist in making supplications, praiers, intercessions, and giuing of thankes for all men, that according to thy promise, we may recciue as well temporall as heauenlie benefites. For this is the confidence which wee haue in thee, that whatsoeuer we shall aske according to thy will, thou wilt grant vnto vs.

And hearing all our petitions, wee doubt not, but that our requests which at this time wee haue made vnto thee by Christ our Lord; shall in like maner be granted: whoe liueth and raigneth with thee in the vnitie of the holie spirite, a God now and for euermore, Amen.'

Rockweeds.

O bleak these shores, wind-swept, and all the year
Washed by the wild Atlantic's restless tide,

You would not dream that flowers the woods hold dear
Amid such desolation dare abide.

Yet when the bitter winter breaks, some day,

With soft winds fluttering her garment's hem,
Up from the sweet South comes the lingering May;
Sets the first wind-flower trembling on its stem;

Scatters her violets with lavish hands,

White, blue and amber; calls the columbine Till, like clear flame in lonely nooks, gay bands, Swinging their scarlet bells, obey the sign;

Makes buttercups and dandelions blaze,

And throws in glimmering patches here and there
The little eyebright's pearls, and gently lays
The impress of her beauty everywhere.

Later, June bids the sweet wild-rose to blow,
Wakes from its dreams the drowsy pimpernel;
Unfolds the bindweed's ivory buds, that glow
As delicately blushing as a shell.

The purple Iris smiles, and hour by hour
The fair procession multiplies; and soon,
In clusters creamy white, the elder-flower
Waves its broad disc against the rising moon.

O'er quiet beaches shelving to the sea
Tall mulleins sway, and thistles; all day long
Comes in the wooing water dreamily,

With subtle music in its slumberous song.

Herb-Robert hears, and princess feather bright,
While gold-thread clasps the little skull cap blue;
And troops of swallows, gathering for their flight,
O'er golden-rod and asters hold review.

The barren island dreams in flowers, while blow
The south winds, drawing haze o'er sea and land;
Yet the great heart of ocean, throbbing slow,
Makes the frail blossoms vibrate where they stand,

And hints of heavier pulses soon to shake

Its mighty breast when summer is no more,
When devastating waves sweep on and break,
And clasp with girdle white the iron shore.

Close-folded, safe within the sheltering seed,
Blossom, and bell, and leafy beauty hide;
Nor icy blast nor bitter spray they heed,

But patiently their wondrous change abide.

Ethel Linton.

BY E. A. W.,

AUTHOR OF 'NEWLYN HOUSE, THE HOME OF THE DAVENPORTS,' ETC.

exclaimed Rosalie, in astonishment. Why, Edward, we never expected to see you here this Easter!'

'Here I am, at all events, Alie.' 'Yes, I see; and very glad I am.' Edward's greeting of Ethel was a very cordial one; and though at first Ethel was disposed to be distant and reserved, his pleasant manner soon dispelled that, and they bid fair to be very good friends.

And you will stay a whole fortnight, Edward,' Rosalie said, 'I am so glad, for then you will be here on my birth-day.'

And what is your birth-day to be celebrated by this year, Rosie?'

Oh, I don't tell that until papa asks,' was the reply.

'Nevertheless I have no doubt your plans are all laid in that wise little head of yours.'

'Perhaps they are, and perhaps they are not; but if you want to find out what they are, you won't succeed just at present, Master Edward,' laughed Rosalie.

I am sure,' said Ethel, whatever Alie chooses for her birth-day treat will be something to give others pleasure as well as herself.'

So you have found out our Rose's unselfishness, Ethel,' said Edward.

เ

'Yes,' replied Ethel, with a sigh; she is a rose without thorns.'

'Oh, no,' exclaimed Rosalie, 'there are plenty of prickles, only they are under the surface, and don't always show themselves.'

'Not very sharp ones, Alie,' said Edward; at least they never prick me; and you and I have known each other long enough to find out all our thorns, I think.'

'No, papa; it would never do to have two years alike. I should like, if you and mamma are willing, to invite all the children I know to come here.'

"Two of them are in London, and cannot come, Alie,' put in Edward.

'Be quiet, Edward, and let me explain to papa what I mean. I want every child in the village to come, papa, that is big enough, and to have some good games of play.'

'But, Alie,' said Mrs Latimer, 'the children always have their school treat in the summer, you know.'

Yes, mamma; but this not a school treat; this is my birth-day party, and I don't mean the school children only; I want every bodythe Hargraves, and the Seymours, and the Ayrtouns, and the rest, besides the poor children.' 'Indeed, Alie; so you want to mix high and low together.'

it

'Yes, papa; I think every one would enjoy more.'

'I am not so sure of that, and I doubt if our wealthy neighbours will be willing for their young ones to come. However, you may try it; only when you send your invitations, you must state plainly what kind of a gathering it is to be.'

'Thank you, papa; I am sure it will be a pleasant one.'

'I am afraid you are getting very plebian in your notions, Miss Latimer: What will grandmamma say when she knows?'

Rosalie laughed gaily, while Ethel hastily exclaimed, Surely grandmamma is not to spoil Rosalie's birth-day! she would make every one miserable if she could!'

Edward was a decided acquisition to the 'What do you know of grandmamma? you Rectory party; for though he professed to be have not seen her, Ethel,' said Mr Latimer, laystaying at the Hall, he was seldom there excepting his hand on her shoulder. to sleep almost the whole of every day was spent with his cousins. Lessons were laid aside, except such voluntary ones as Ethel chose to continue; and very pleasant were the rambles the three cousins took together in the bright sunshine of early April, which this year belied its character, and was dry as well as warm.

Ethel coloured; it was the first time she had alluded to Mrs Feversham in her uncle's presence: but she replied with a vehemence that startled herself as well as all present, ‘Seen her! no, Uncle Latimer! and I hope I never shall!' Mr Latimer's only answer was, ‘Hush, my child.'

but Ethel took no part in the discussion.

The girls' half hour with Mr Latimer in the study was continued as usual; nothing was allowed to interfere with that: and Edward had to put up with his aunt's society for that period. This morning, when the Scripture lesson was ended, and Ethel was following Rosalie from the room, Mr Latimer put his hand on her arm to detain her.

Ethel's manner towards Edward varied with Nothing more was said then, and the conher varying moods; sometimes it was as plea-versation turned again upon Rosalie's birth-day, sant and as easy as possible, and she seemed to be growing quite fond of him, and then it would suddenly change, and she would scarcely speak to him even when addressed. Edward strove in vain to understand her, and he and Rosalie often wondered what could make her so changeable. So long as Ethel could think of Edward as belonging only to her aunt and Rosalie, she liked him and enjoyed his society; but when anything reminded her that he too was a Feversham, and one of those who had neglected her mother, then all her bitter feelings were roused, and she cared not how she showed them. 'Well, Alie,' said Mr Latimer at breakfast, a morning or two after Edward's appearance amongst them, what do you want to do on your birth-day this year? We are likely to have glorious weather; is it to be another trip to Wellwick?'

6

'Stay a moment, Ethel, I want you a little longer.'

She turned, without a word.

How are you getting on with your studies, my child?'

Ethel looked up. She had not expected it was for that her uncle had bid her remain; but she answered readily,

Very well, I hope, uncle. I have nearly finished the history of Scotland; and yesterday