that several dozens would have sold readily. We have now sold £20 worth of articles. We have already expended fifty rupees for the benefit of the dear girls, who averaged sixty last year; and there are so many ways of spending the remainder, that we have not at present quite decided about it. One useful way would be, to give to each girl, on her marriage, £1, to assist in setting out in life; this we do, but are obliged to entrench on the regular school funds, which we should prefer not doing. Please present our best thanks to the ladies who have so kindly contributed."

"IN JESUS."

"IN Jesus!" oh, how sweet,

How passing glorious to trust in Him,
Earth's darkest hours to meet,

And feel his gracious presence comforting!

"In Jesus!" when we feel

Our heart's-ease withering amidst toil and care,

Then heaven alone is real;

And Christ we know will guard our mansion there.

"In Jesus!" when we see

Friends, oh, how loved! pale, 'neath the autumn wind, Till to eternity

They pass, and leave us sorrowing behind.

"In Jesus!" when our breath

Grows short and quick, and the red lips turn chill,

Beneath the touch of death;

Oh, then, how comforting to trust Him still!

"In Jesus!" if to live

In Him, and for Him here, be glorious,

What will it be to give

Our all into his arms victorious!

Blest Saviour, grant us thus

To feel thy blessed presence always nigh,
And dying, quit our dust

To dwell for ever with Thee in the sky.

A. Z.

EVENINGS WITH THE EDITOR.

EVENING THE THIRTY-FIRST.

Aug. A LONG LOOK AHEAD;* another work by Mr. A. S. Roe.

Emm. He excels in quaint titles.

Aug. Yes; but his stories are modern enough.

Ed. And very life-like. Do you commend his present work?

Aug. Decidedly. I dip my pen in rose-coloured ink this morning, as I really have not any fault to find. This is an excellent narrative, romantic enough for all novel readers, and stirring enough to rouse all sluggards to instant industry.

Ed. Mr. Roe certainly writes with the highest moral purposes; and the perusal of his works must leave a strong impression upon the reader's mind of the most desirable kind, however transient may be its abiding.

Aug. I do not think that "To Love and to be Loved" was equal to "I've been Thinking." To my mind it fell very far short.

Emm. Some people say it was not by Mr. Roe, but by one of his children. Do you know?

Aug. No; I have not heard anything of its authorship. Mrs. M. But you have not stated the character of this "Look Ahead." I want to hear something about it.

Aug. It is too interesting a story to allow of my unfolding its plot. The author is clever in his plots; but you may judge a little of its character when I say that it blends the attractiveness of "I've been Thinking" and "Queechy," and seems to me a sort of union of those two books. It sketches the endeavours of two brothers to push their way in the world, and shows how frugality, perseverance, and a "Long Look Ahead" may secure a large amount of happiness, provided that the grace of God has kept the heart from ambition and vain-glory. There are some amusing episodes in this story which diversify it as a picture of American society; such, for example, as the "evangelical alliance" of the ministers who had long doubted each other's orthodoxy and had shunned each other. "Deacon Rice" might find many a brother in this country.

Emm. Why do not people write stories of English life in the same clever, natural way as these American writers do? Ed. Some have done so; but unfortunately they have been stories of a Tractarian character, such as " Amy Herbert."

* Simpkin, Marshall and Co.

Aug. The Puseyites have had it all to themselves in this line. Mrs. M. Since Mrs. Sherwood died.

Ed. Ah, I wish some one could and would write as she did. None of our writers for the young-Tractarians excepted-seem able to describe in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, the little incidents of everyday domestic and social life.

Aug. We want a Charles Dickens with a true Christian spirit. Ed. Perhaps some writer may by-and-by present himself. He will find a large field for description which has been little touched. Dickens, when he has ventured into the more domestic circles of society, has chiefly done so to sketch their oddities; like Punch he gives us all the queer things and the queer people; but the world is not altogether made up of these. Any one who could present his readers with a portraiture of his own family and his own friends, however limited his friendships might be, would secure an interested and approving audience.

Aug. You say, could present.

Ed. Yes; for nothing would be more difficult. Writers like Dickens seem to look for strongly-marked characters, and they throw a strong light upon them, so as to make their peculiarities very prominent. But in ordinary society we find people of a common-place, average character, without much to distinguish them from others; and just as painters find a common face, without any marked expression or features, the most difficult to delineate, so should we soon discover it to be very difficult to describe the " people we have met," unless they were exceptions to the rule of common-placeism.

Aug. Well, if authors desire any very new channel, they might find it by starting upon some such pilgrimage as Lieut. Burton has just completed.

Ed. You have read his PERSONAL NARRATIVE ?*
Aug. Yes.

Mrs. M. Where did he go?

Aug. Where very few ever went before, and where he perilled his life by attempting to penetrate-to the Moslems' Holy Land, Mecca and Medina. He is really the first person who has been able to give an accurate account.

Ed. Burckhardt went in 1811.

Aug. I am aware he did; but he was ill most of the time, and unable to send any correct plan of the mosque.

Mrs. M. How did this Mr. Burton get to Mecca?

Aug. In the disguise of a pilgrim. In the autumn of 1852 he put himself in communication with the London Geo

* London: Longmans.

graphical Society. They gave him money and letters, and he left Southampton in April, 1853, in the garb of a Persian.

Emm. But did he know the language well?

Aug. He was skilled in his acquaintance with Oriental manners and languages, and he sustained his character very successfully. He even travelled with officers belonging to his own regiment without their penetrating his disguise.

Mrs. M. What was his object? Knight-errantry?

Aug. Oh, no, it was "for the purpose of removing that opprobrium to modern adventure, the huge white blot which in our maps still notes the eastern and central regions of Arabia."

Emm. Did he find out much?

Aug. He visited the Mosque of the Prophet at Medina, describes the ceremonies of the pilgrims very minutely, gives a full account of the tomb of Mahomet, and not only demonstrates that the coffin does not hang in the air, but assigns strong reasons for doubting that the prophet was buried there at all. He visited Aaron's tomb on Mount Ohod, the Five Mosques, the Cemetery of El Bakia, and the tomb of the martyr Hamzah. Then he went to Mecca, but has not yet given the public an account of the city. This, I suppose, will be contained in the third volume, which is to appear shortly.

Emm. Suppose he had been discovered!

Aug. His death, he says, would have been the penalty. Emm. How shocking! He was a very courageous man.

Aug. Yes; he did not make this pilgrimage, as some adventurous spirits have ascended Mont Blanc, merely for the glory of the enterprise, but that he might add to our stores of knowledge.

Mrs. M. Here is a very sweet book, full of unction and good food for Christian reflection, GLIMPSES OF JESUS. The author says that his object in writing it is to exalt Christ in the affections of his people; to furnish them with fresh motives to increased devotedness to Him; and in connexion with this to impart consolation to the afflicted, to attract the awakened, and encourage them to come to Jesus, and to arouse the formalist and the careless. He has so well described his own work that we need say nothing further respecting its range of subjects, except to observe that it reminds us strongly of the savouriness of Winslow's books, and that it has already reached a second edition. Although only a small book, each of its twenty-two chapters contains good materials for a full sermon.

* London: J. F. Shaw.

T the entrance of the village of Hever, in Kent, stands a very humble hostelry, whose signboard is decorated with a rough portrait of bluff King Harry. Many a long year has it swung to wind and gale, and bears the sad testimony of its age by rack and rent. The traveller has passed from Edenbridge through the long line of beeches which encircle the village of Penshurst, and after looking at

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