| complexion clear and tinged with a healthy roseate hue, her eyes were of soft and cerulean blue, in whose still depths a living light floated and shone, and her light auburn hair fell in loose flowing locks rippling over her shoulders. She had a graceful fairy-like carriage, and seemed always as cheerful and sunny and innocent as an angel. When I could spare half an hour from the garden, I was always glad enough to employ it in waiting upon her. She was very unassuming, grateful, and affable. No one seemed so much obliged by little favours—no one returned so many thanks for them, nor in so warmhearted and kind a way as she did. She often came to me in the garden when I was there alone, to ask me to do somethidg for her, or tell her something about flowers and birds. I filled her little flowerpots with soil. I taught her the names of the birds that sang in the woods, and of the trees on which they perched. I gathered wild flowers for her, which she petted exceedingly. I made her some small circular flower-beds, and filled them with daises and violets, and primroses, and anemones, and blue-bells, and forget-menots, and pimpernels. They were her dear little children, she used to say. The great When I got into my chamber that night I looked out of my window, the snow and rain had ceased to fall, the heavens were clear and spangled with stars, the wind was dying away, and, throwing its mantle of light o'er the earth still white with snow, the moon walked in silent beauty across the sky. That moonlight haunted me in my slumbers. The scenes that had been called up before the mind by the fireside, re-appeared in my dreams, intermingled with the floating fancies of the day, and over every scene a broad bright moon poured its silvery radiance. I dreamed first of all, that I lay cold and shivering, weary, and ready to die, in a wide hovel beside a turnpike road; and as I lay I could discern the moonbeams gleaming through the broken thatch of the roof; then I looked down from a lofty window upon a silent, sleeping city, whose spires, and domes, and roofs, were all bathed in shining sheen; then I stood on the deck of a ship that cleaved the ocean wave, and sped rapidly toward the East, while the moonbeams danced and played on the heaving waters; anon I reclined under a grove of mangoe trees-was bustling to and fro in a crowded street-bought and sold in a public mart-applauded a public orator amid a vast assemblage of my country-staring, gaudy flowers of the garden, she did men-walked by the glassy lake in the garden of our old hall, with a maiden of radiant face and azure eyes by my side, or traced by the pale rays of the lamp of Heaven the inscriptions on the tablets of an old church, that spoke of the worth and virtues of an extinct family. What were these shifting and changing scenes? The ghosts of my waking thoughts, which in a wild freak of mind re-appeared to vex my midnight slumbers? A confused panorama of memory in which the fancies of the day dimly and indistinctly shadowed forth, passed again before the mental vision? Or were they veritable pictures of things yet to be, dream-glimpses of the future seen in the moonlight of prophetic thought? Weeks rolled on. Winter passed away. Spring came, and with spring the cuckoo and the violet, and the primrose and the daisy; and with spring also came orders for frequent attendance at Laurelton Hall. As my father could only occasionally attend, I went in his place most days; and, acting under his advice, did what I could. In one department of duty, I believe I was quite successful, and that was in attention to the orders of Miss Helen. She was the youngest daughter of Mr. Graceford, and not a little petted. I do not think she was vain, she was certainly fair and lovely. Her features were smooth and regular, her not care much about, they were like old people in fine dresses in the opera-box, or the ball-room. It was the frail, delicate little sisters of the fields and the woods, she said, that she loved most dearly. So I kept her supplied with wild flowers, and often told her she was a little wild flower herself. I also groomed her pony for her, and made a pet of it, to some good purpose as it happened, for one day when she was riding out upon it the little thing took fright, and ran away towards the edge of a deep slate quarry, and would have precipitated itself and its fair rider into the pit inevitably, had not the pony recognized my voice, and stopped when I called it to stop, as I used to do in the paddock to caress it and play with it. When her father and mother were going to leave for the Isle of Wight, whither their medical man recommended them to go for the benefit of Mrs. Graceford's health, who was in a consumption, Helen came tripping along the garden walk to me one morning, her auburn tresses floating and streaming in the wind, and said, "Claude, I am so sorry we are going to leave the villa for the Isle of Wight, because mamma is not very well; and do you know, I don't like the Isle of Wight half so well as Laurelton, besides I do not like to leave my little pets, but you'll take care of them, Claude, when I am gone, won't you? I shall be so glad CLAUDE CLIFTON'S STORY OF HIS LIFE. if you will, poor things, I wonder how they will get on without me." Was it strange, my readers, if after this that radiant face and those azure eyes would keep looking down upon me in the reveries of the day, and the visions of the night, and was it to be wondered at that in all my dreams of the future, that fairy form seemed to glide to and fro in every scene? The summer came and went. The Villa was deserted by all save a few servants. The Graceford's did not return. I have but little to do, and I spend much time in rambling in the woods, or dreaming on Fern Hill of the great world that I can see afar off, on whose roaring tide I feel sure I shall shortly be launched. My presentiments are soon verified. Suddenly, without any warning, without any premonitory symptoms, making no sign, nor speakiag one farewell word, my father dies-dies in his arm chair by the fireside dies, and is buried and gathered to his fathers. Mrs. Farlock comes to lay him out, and she tells us of her husband, and his death, and the old clock, and the sure token. My Sunday-school teacher digs the grave (that being now his congenial occupation) and is more than usually grim and solemn to his class on the following Sunday. The minister with hard features, and hair brushed straight over his forehead, and plain black clothes, calls upon my mother, and says a word or two of consolation, repeating several times the words, "Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive, and let thy widows trust in me," the text from which he preached" to improve the death," as it was called, of Mr. Clifton, And when all this is over, and mother and I sit again by the fireside alone, the full weight of the calamity comes upon us, and the hidden and hitherto restrained grief of our hearts, finds vent in copious tears. I am awakened to the stern realities of life. I am an orphan, my mother is a widow. My brothers are in the New World, and have taken with them what savings my father could then spare, and have left a debt beside. We have but a few shillings in the house, the money for the repayment of which my father was pledged is demanded, and the expenses of the funeral are to be defrayed. We agree, as Gracefords are out, not to try to borrow money to meet these claims, but to obtain what we can by the sale of the produce of the garden, and of some articles of furniture. As to ourselves, we determine that mother shall remain in the cottage, and let off the garden to the new gardener at the villa who has already applied for it. "It would be too severe a 23 trial for me," she said, "to leave my old home at present. I can earn my own livelihood here by needlework, and I would rather have the repose and quietness of the village around me, than the noise and confusion of the town. I do not want to banish thought of the past, in meditation upon my trials, the chastening and sanctifying power they are designed to exert upon me will be felt. Even now I sometimes think the Spirit of God broods in silence over the dark chaos and night of my soul, and his voice may be heard, saying, Let there be light.' In the stillness and desolation of my home, I shall not be alone. Husband and children will be gone, but I shall, I trust, find fellowship and communion with Him who is the husband of the widow, the friend and comforter of the bereaved." As to myself, my mother thought her hopes and dreams of my future could not be realized if I remained at Guysmore; and I thought so too, and resolved to try my fortune in the great metropolis, of which I had heard so much at the villa. A distant relative of my late father was in business in London, and doing, as we heard, well, though in what line of business he was we could not exactly make out. I was to go with a letter of introduction to him. We succeeded as well as we could expect in the disposal of part of our furniture, and the sale of the stock in the garden. It cost my mother some little pain to sell an old arm chair and a table, quaintly and curiously carved, relics of the ancient honour of her family, which had been rescued from the wreck of affairs at Marston Heath; but the gentleman who bought them was kind enough to say we should have them again if ever we wanted them. The sum of money owing was thus got together, and all my father's liabilities were discharged. At length the time drew nigh for my departure. The night before I was to set off, we sat again-mother and I didwhere we had sat so many times before by the blazing hearth. We were both very thoughtful and sad. It was the eve of my first going from home, to-morrow I was to launched upon the great world, small craft though I was, to make my first voyage aloue in its strange waters, and to endure on untried timbers, the beating of its surging tide, and the buffeting of its blustering winds. My mother thought of the dangers, breakers, quicksands, storms of that great sea, whereon so many had made shipwreck, and she prayed to Him who holds the winds that blow even over that sea in His fists, and the waters even of that ocean in the hollow of his hand, be my Guardian and Friend. And I thought of leaving my mother alone, and the dear old fireside where I might never sit with her again; and I prayed for her that she might be "alone, yet not alone" for but a short time, and that God would so prosper me, that I might be able to return soon to cheer her by my success. We sat long and talked much, my mother quoting largely, as usual, from her favourite poet, and the fire ever and anon, as before, shooting forth flashes of light, which brought out from shadow and darkness the Prodigal on the wall to stare down upon me a warning against dissipation and sin. she might perceive I saw her, and passed on. It was not until I got to the town that I had visited with my father just a year before, that I could think of home without tears. I did not stay here many minutes. I found the coach fare to London higher than I expected; it would nearly exhaust my funds. I resolved at once to set off and walk, though the distance was nearly a hundred miles. After two hours walking, I took my bundle off my back, and was going to sit down to rest on a green bank beside the dusty turnpike. Just as I was doing this, a carriage rolled past. It was Graceford's. Helen, who sat behind, saw me; our eyes met, and a smile passed over her face. Her father did not see me. The carriage rolled on, a cloud of dust followed it; it wheeled round a turn of the road, again I caught sight of Helen, 'twas but for a moment, for the carriage, as soon as it wheeled round, dipped behind a high hedge, and I saw them no more. What was there in that smile? Scorn for a poor adventurer, footsore and weary, tramping to the great metropolis, or encouragement and hope The morning came fresh and joyous as ever. We rose early. After breakfast we knelt down together, and my mother committed me with tears to the care of Him who is the Father of the fatherless. I tried to say, "Good-bye, mother," and I could not; my emotions choked my utterance. I held her hand in mine, I looked into her face through my tears, I felt my strength of resolve failing me, and I tore myself away, saying to myself, "Be brave, Claude, be brave." My mother waved her last adieu from the door as I a Houris' smile, that Eastern fiction went along. On reaching the first hill on the road from which I could see the cottage, I turned to look back. She was at the door, still straining her eyes to catch the last glimpse of me. I waved my hand that feigns the warrior sees when expiring on the gory battle-field, a smile that beckons across the perilous bridge to a New World, a paradise under the shadow of swords? Reviews. CHRISTIAN EXERCISES for every Lord's-day morning and evening in the year. By J. Burns, D.D., author of Pulpit Cyclopædia, &c., 8vo., pp. 344. In the prospectus of this work the author says "Most Christians endeavour to secure some part of the Lord's-day for spiritual reading and meditation. Many are constrained to do this from their inability to be present in the services of the Sanctuary; from confinement in the sick chamber; or from having to wait on the afflicted; or from inevitable domestic duties. To put in the hands of such persons a book that will convey spiritual instruction, and the direct tendency of which will be to edify the mind, will be the end of this work." The work consists of the brief and somewhat condensed exposition of some scripture subject, to which is appended a metrical composition, in which the chief thoughts contained in the theme are reproduced. There is, as the title intimates, one of these for every morning, and another for every evening, for fifty-two Lord's-days. The subjects exhibit a pleasing variety. They are all of a truly Evangelical order, and are discussed with considerable ability. As they constitute the essence of sermons delivered by the author, they are the more practical, useful and edifying. The versification is not always elegant or regular. Its chief merit is, that it embodies in verse what has previously been presented in prose. WILMSHURST'S Bible Exercises, or Scripture References for Schools and Families. Aylott, & Son, London. These exercises are thirty-three in number, and were originally prepared by the authoress for the use of her pupils. They are more comprehensive and varied in REVIEW. their character than any we have yet seen. For Bible classes they would be of great service, inducing the pupil to a diligent examination of the sacred volume. An example or two may be given at random: No. I. Parables. In what part of the New Testament are to be found the following parables?: 1. The Sower. 2. Tares. 3. Seed springing up imperceptibly, &c., to 30. Again, No. 14-of Salvation. Of the 25 way of salvation. 1. Salvation only through Christ, John 14. Acts 4. I Cor. I. II. Salvation is of grace-through faith, and not as the reward of our own obedience; Mark 16. John 3, Ep. 2. Titus 3. III. Salvation for the chief of sinners; John 6. I Tim. 1. Heb. 7. By the side of these chapters the pupil has to place the verse or verses which apply to the subject. OUR HOME ISLANDS: their productive Industry. By Rev. Thomas Milner, M.A., F.R.G.S., Author of "A Universal Geography," "The History of England," &c., 12mo. cloth, pp. 328. London: Religious Tract Society. This is not a manual of mere manufac- | turing industry. First and foremost Mr. Milner has placed an historical sketch of agriculture. The antiquity of pastoral pursuits is undeniable, as may be learnt from the book of Genesis. The preference shown for them by Jews, Greeks, Romans, and the earlier western peoples is also unquestionable. Among the Romans, indeed, to be a good husbandman was synonymous with being a good citizen; to farm ill was an offence for which the delinquent might be called before the censor; and so ambitious was each Roman farmer of success, that great crops roused the bad passions of an illiterate and superstitious people. An instance of this kind is the following:-One Cresinus, having got from his small farm, much larger crops than others, he was summoned before an assembly of the people on a charge of sorcery. His answer was worthy of the man. He produced his good implements of husbandry, his well-fed oxen. and his vigorous and hale young daughter, and, pointing to them, exclaimed: "These Romans, are my instruments of witchcraft; but I cannot here show you my labours, sweats, and anxious cares.' The feudal system held all farm improvements in check in this country; and it was not until the reign of Elizabeth that any marked attention to them was paid at all. Then Judges of Common Pleas, and scholars of Cambridge did not disdain to seek its general advance. Later down, Oliver Cromwell, among the many other acts of goodness, for which Englishmen honour him, bestowed a pension of £100 a-year upon Samuel Hartlib for a treatise on improved cultivation. Draining lands first commenced in this country during the protectorate; but the use of manures suitable to different soil is of later date. So of hedges, which Mrs, Browning says: "tie up our English landscapes as in a nosegay." It is only in more recent times that these beautiful divisions of our fields have been trimmed and cropped. Scotland, however, has made the most surprising advances in farming in modern times, and has had the honour of giving birth to the great improver of agriculture, James Smith, of Deanston. "Tilling and Grazing husbandry" are both chapters abounding in facts, carefully tested and well put. Seven millions of quarters of corn are annually sown in Great Britain and Ireland. Two-thirds of this are rendered unproductive by some agency which has hitherto been uncontrolled. Thus 4,666,666 quarters of corn are annually wasted; a quantity which would support more than one million of human beings. Mr. Milner says, concerning our supposed large class of thieves of sown corn, "It has not been an intelligent procedure to wage unrelenting war against birds, following the advice of Tucker "Kill crow, pie, and cadow, None of the birds here mentioned, with the exception of rooks, can be fairly accused of appropriating to themselves the newly-sown seed, and even they decidedly prefer a grub to a grain. Insects are the prime depredators, and were it not for the birds keeping them down, the fruits of the earth would be in danger of being wholly destroyed. The farmer may, therefore, well afford to allow the birds peaceably to take a meal twice a-year, the rook, in seed time, and the sparrow towards harvest, considering the importance of the services they render him. It is especially at these seasons that the voracious caterpillars are eating their way to the condition known among entomologists as "full-fed." Concerning corn, it is stated, that while more than two hundred varieties have been described, there is no reason believe that the grain in the present day to famous city of London," says Blith, "petitioned the Parliament of England against two nuisances, or offensive commodities, that were likely to come into great use and esteem; and that was Newcastle coal in regard of their stench, and hops in regard that they would spoil the taste of drink, and endanger the people." It was in Queen Bess's time, too, that butter superseded dripping and bread at breakfast. is substantially different from that culti-| vated in Egypt three or four thousand years ago. The increase of its consumption is taken as an evidence of advance among all classes in material comfort. In the year 1750, when England and Wales numbered about six millions, nearly one seventh, or more than eight hundred thousand, fed on rye. Even principal families in the northern counties of England, partook very sparingly of wheat, and then chiefly as a kind of luxury at Christmas. The Potatoe, a native of South America, and still found wild on the mountains of Chili, was not brought into this country till the middle of the sixteenth century, and was first cultivated by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his garden at Youghal; and about the same time, peas were brought from Holland, quaintly described by Thomas Haller, a century later, as fit dainties for ladies, they come so far, and cost so dear." Hops were unknown till the reign of Bluff Hal, and in the time of the Commonwealth, "the INDIA: An Historical Sketch. By the Rev. George Trevor, M.A., Canon of York, late Chaplain of the Madras Establishment. 12mo., cloth, pp. 337. London: Religious Tract Society. Of fisheries much valuable information is given in a small space, under the respective heads of salmon, herring, pilchard, cod, mackerel, sprats, and oysters. From thence attention is turned to the mines, the textile fabrics, hardware, leather, furs, earthenware and porcelain, glass, paper, printing, and miscellaneous manufactures. The arrangement of the materials of this manual will thus be seen to be good. All that it lacks to make it a book of constant reference is, a full and complete index of its multifarious facts. Affghan dynasties, of the Moguls, of the decline and fall of the Moguls, of Europeans generally, and, lastly, of the British Empire. A short chapter is devoted to "the progress of Christianity in India." There is, in addition, a good It is not likely that Englishmen generally | will soon become indifferent to what is passing in India; and our own noble band of missionaries in the province of Orissa, will keep some part of the doings of that vast empire constantly before our eyes. The book before us is a useful compen-coloured map, a glossary of native terms, dium of the History of Hindostan. We have a general description of the country, climate, productions, and political divisions, a sketch of the Hindoos, of the LECTURES TO THE PEOPLE. By Thomas Goadby, B.A. No. I. "No Admittance except on Business." No. II. "Piece-work." a chronological table of territorial acquisitions by the British, a list of the native States in the three presidencies, and of Christian churches and missions. Coventry: Goode & Son; Leicester: Winks and Son; Loughborough: J. H. Gray. THESE lectures, delivered on Sunday | stuff of the right stamp in them than in afternoons, at Whitefriar-street chapel, any popular lectures we have read. They are full of strong common-sense, put in will bear comparison with any. We give the plainest Saxon, and breathing the an extract in another part from the first most Christian spirit. There is more one. THE SCRIPTURE POCKET BOOK, for 1859. Roan-tuck.-YOUNG PEOPLES POCKET BOOK, for 1859, Roan-tuck.-THE CHRISTIAN ALMANAC, for 1859. Religious Tract Society THE two first are very convenient and very neat pocket-books. Both have an Almanac, and ruled pages for memoranda, and a great deal of useful information. The third is a useful Almanac for the library. THE PROTESTANT DISSENTER'S ALMANAC AND POLITICAL ANNUAL for 1859. Kent and Co., London. A valuable compendium of information | bearing upon Dissenters. We wish it on Religious Societies, magazines, news- may have a wide circulation. papers, and recent acts of Parliament, |