the little confined room, and bound upon the flowery turf with her playfellows, the goats! Jacob, the unwearied Jacob, began to lay out a garden, as soon as the ground was thoroughly uncongealed. He began by marking out a little spot in front of the cottage and by enclosing it with a low hedge. He then dug it well, and sowed it with such seed as could be procured in the district, and would be likely to flourish in such a rockly soil. The warm sun soon charmed forth the little plants from this stony bed, and Agnes undertook the daily task of keeping the little enclosure free from weeds.

Jacob soon recommenced his journies to the town. He now always took with him some of the articles which he and his mistress had manufactured during the winter, and brought home the welcome proceeds of the barter. With this resource against the pressure of actual want, Matilda remained in the wilderness comparatively free from anxiety, and could patiently leave the issue in the hands of Providence. But, a heavy and unexpected affliction awaited her. Jacob, who had hitherto been very hale and hearty for his years, now experienced a rapid decay of all his physical powers. The hardships and inconveniences of their rude life had well nigh exhausted the good old man. Day by day his step became more feeble-his breathing more laboured, and it was with toil and trouble that he managed to crawl along the mountain-path, leaning upon his staff. He ate almost nothing, and at night he hardly got an hour's unbroken sleep; his limbs often failed him when he tried to work, and he would seat himself for very weariness.

One day, as he was carrying a bundle of brush-wood into

the kitchen, he sank down fainting on the threshold. Matilda greatly alarmed, rushed to his assistance. "What is amiss, dear Jacob," said she," are you ill?" 66 My last hour is at hand, noble lady," replied the old man, tenderly pressing the hand of his mistress, "this mortal is about to put on immortality!" "Do not say so!" sobbed the poor lady-it may not, cannot be God will not permit us to be made so deso. late! What would become of me and of my poor child, if we were to be bereaved of you? our last remaining friend!" "You will still have God with you," said Jacob, tenderly, “He is an Unchangeable Friend! It is in vain to trust in man, as you have found already. Changing fortune robs you of your false friends, and death of the true ones?"

"Oh! do not talk of dying!" said

must not be! You must live, Jacob!

Matilda, “it cannot,

You must leave off

work; you must rest and take care of yourself; then, your powers will return again."

"I would gladly live; I would joyfully remain with you replied the old man, until the enemy has departed, that I might restore you again in safety to your ancient balls! But that cannot be, my days are numbered! and I shall never see Hohenfels again!"

The old man's presentiment was not long in being fulfilled. One fine day, he had wandered towards the town, in spite of Matilda's earnest entreaty that he would spare himself, and not attempt such a walk again. Towards evening, George, the young shepherd, came running to the hut, and called out at the window, "You must come with me, at once, my good lady, if you wish to see old Jacob again in this life. He lies at our cottage very ill."

Matilda was not long in setting out with her little daughter, but the sorrowful intelligence overcame her so much, that she was obliged to lean upon George for support. She found the old man, pale as death, lying upon a bed in a state of extreme exhaustion. He had been so shatterd by the fall that he could hardly stammer out a few incoherent syllables. The clergyman from the neighbouring village was administering to him the Sacrament of the Holy Communion. As he caught sight of Matilda and Agnes, a ray of light gleamed from his half-closed eyes. With a band already rendered clammy by the damp of death, he seized that of his weeping mistress, and tenderly pressed it, in token of a fond farewell. He then erossed his hand over his breast, and although his breathing continued to become more and more difficult and laboured, his lips still retained a peaceful smile. Without a struggle, without even a murmur or a groan, his soul departed.

Matilda gazed upon his lifeless form in an agony of grief, until she was recalled to herself by the pastor's voice, exclaiming, "The righteous hath peace in his death," and then with him she fell upon her knees, and prayed the Almighty to extend still more His goodness and pity to her and her child, now so deserted upon earth. Bent low in supplication with the good clergyman, she joined in giving hearty thanks to God, who had been pleased to deliver their brother out of the miseries of this sinful world! The prayer and supplication came from full hearts, and were interrupted by many sobs, but were they on that account despised by the Father in Heaven? Oh, surely not!

At Matilda's request, the remains of her good old servant

were deposited near the hut in the Valley of Gloom. Green turf was placed above him, and the spot was soon marked by a simple cross, which the good old shepherd had taken a pious pleasure in shaping from some white ashen-timber, and carving after the manner of the country with much thought and care.

Neither Matilda or her daughter could forget for a long time their departed friend, and little Agnes did not fail to adorn the cross with garlands of flowers, which she zealously cultivated for that especial purpose, renewing them day by day. (To be continued.)

M. A. J.

LITURGICAL LESSONS.-No. XIII.

THE LESSONS.

AFTER the Psalms follow the Lessons, taken from the Old and New Testaments; showing the harmony which exists between the Law and the Gospel. "Which method of reading doth fitly serve that from smaller things the minds of the hearers may go forward to the knowledge of the greater; and, by degrees, climb up trom the lowest to the highest things."

"Our Mirror is a blessed book,

Whereout from each illumined page,

We see One glorious Image look,

All eyes to dazzle and engage."

From Acts, xiii. 15, we gather that it was the custom of

the Jews to read the Law and the Prophets in their synagogues on the Sabbath day; and early ecclesiastical writers tell us that the practice of the Primitive Church was similar. The Scriptures of the Old and New Testament are termed "Canonical Books;" those placed between these two great divisions, which are doubtful, are called the "Apocrypha," and are only read "for example of life and instruction of manners." (Vide the Sixth Article.)

I. The Daily First Lessons. The Church commences the years with Lessons taken from the Book of Genesis, and proceeds with the other books in order, till the whole, with some slight exceptions, are read over. The Book of the Prophet Isaiah, which contains the clearest prophecies of Jesus Christ, is reserved to be read a little before and during Advent. Hence the whole of the Old Testament is read through once a year. A different order is observed in the Lessons appointed for Sundays, Holy-days, and Saints'-days.

II. The Daily Second Lessons. The same order is observed by the Church in the selection of the Second Lessons for both Sundays and week-days. The only exceptions being those for Holy-days, and Saints'-days. The Gospels, Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistles, are read as they stand in the New Testament. The whole is read through three times a year.

III. The Sunday Lessons. Proper (first) Lessons" are appointed for Sundays, that being the day when most people assemble in Church, contain chapters which are selected and ordered, as most suitable and edifying to those who cannot always attend daily to hear the whole Bible read in order.

IV. The Omitted Books. These consist of the two Books