'Tis the blest Te Deum pealing
Upward to the heavenly Throne,
In the faith of JESU sealing

Him, the new baptized one.

See him there a child in meekness,
Crossed his hands upon his breast,
Manhood's sins, and childhood's weakness,
By his faithful tongue confessed.

Forth he goes in holy gladness,
Steadfast to his new-born faith,
Pledged, come hours of joy or sadness,
GOD to serve through life till death.

Well he kept his blest endeavour,

Well he worked with tongue and pen,

His undying fame shall ever

Guide and teach the souls of men.

Blessed Saint, and Bishop holy,
In the Church's jewelled crown,

Gem thou art of purest glory,

Bless we GOD for thy renown.

N. B.

MABEL.

CHAPTER IV.

A LOUD, rather authoritative rapping at his study door, recalled the vicar from a maze of theological reflections. Scarcely awaiting leave to enter, the neat Cornish maid-servant ushered into the room Miss Lane, the teacher of the parish school, and then hastened away with an air of subdued but active energy that owned nothing in common with the dolce far niente spirit of the islanders.

I am glad to see you, Miss Lane," began the vicar, as he courteously advanced to meet his guest; I have been wishing for some days past to consult with you upon a plan relating to the school. But you look pale! I hope the work is not too much for you!"

"No, thank you; I am fond of teaching, and this climate suits me better than Northamptonshire. I came to ask advice about one of the children, but can quite well call again if you are not at leisure."

The vicar's only answer was a reassuring smile, and drawing a low

couch nearer the blazing fireside for her, he resumed his own seat with a look of undivided interest and attention.

"You see,” began the schoolmistress, "it is that little girl Millicent Lacy, whom Miss Mabel visited so constantly when she was ill two months ago."

That pretty child from Holy Vale, who is still looking so delicate? I trust there has been no relapse; my nieces were observing only yesterday that she seems too feeble for any but the lightest tasks."

This last remark was made advisedly, for the parish “governess,' long used to deal with sturdy northern children, had not yet learned to measure the quick intellect, but indolent and dreamy temperament of the Scillonian youth.

Indeed I am most careful not to overtax her strength," was the rejoinder. "She always rests for half-an-hour in the morning, whilst the other girls are at their sums, and I have often sent her out into the playground when that hectic flush has come into her face."

Quite right; she needs fresh air and exercise; but is it then only her health which gives you such concern ?"

No; on the contrary, that is the least point, for I sometimes think the fever must have left her with odd fancies. She tells such strange stories of events which she declares have happened to herself, but which are, I feel sure, wholly without foundation."

'This is a grave case," said the vicar, in a thoughtful tone, "there is no fault I had not rather see at any age than wilful insincerity.”

"But I am nearly certain she does not mean to be insincere, at least not always. There are times when she seems really to believe her own inventions, though by the way, the ideas sound so visionary that perhaps they are not original."

That is a questionable point; children of such lively imagination are skilful weavers of fantastic imagery. When they are fond of reading, of course the materials with which the mind thus works increase proportionately."

"Millicent reads an immense deal, and seems to make herself one with the author's characters. She does not care for fairy tales, but she delights in allegories, and in legends which have a religious cast. I believe they are not good for the child; she dreams too much already. Yesterday she burst into tears over her catechism, and when I asked the reason she said, because naughty boys in Sweden tell poor Nek that river spirits can have no hope of salvation, whereupon it appears

he lays aside his harp, and weeps. The children near began to laugh, and I could scarcely forbear smiling too when I saw Milly's earnestness and indignation.”

"I can rather enter into both, however,” said the vicar quietly, to the unfeigned amazement of his visitor. "Such legends are intensely real in childhood. I have often myself felt their power. Then too the generous sympathy which they awaken is the first outpouring of a healing river, whose sweet waters may flow forth richly to bless and fertilise, if they be only turned into some channel of direct practical usefulness."

"Well I am sure I do my best to make her practical,” remarked Miss Lane, complacently. "When she was quiet about Nek, I gave her an account of the Newfoundland codfishery to read, and she sat with her eyes fixed on the book, looking as though, for aught I knew, she might be preaching sermons to the spirits of earth, air, and sea."

"So very probably she was," said Mr. Harland, smiling. "My dear Miss Lane, excuse me, but I should call that transition rather too abrupt. If you had given her a story about cottage children, with their round of varied duties and amusements, that would have been more likely to add fresh zest to her own daily pursuits."

"But I supposed that facts, not fictions, were required in this instance," said Miss Lane. "How very much easier it is to deal with sensible commonplace children who give some promise of being useful in their generation!"

"You believe then that finely-wrought and gifted temperaments have no especial sphere to fill, for which more ordinary mortals are unfitted ?” "That cannot be, of course. The Bible tells us of diversities of gifts,' but are we sure Imagination is among them?"

"Undoubtedly; I am convinced that when kept within proper bounds, it ranks with the most precious talents which God has entrusted to us for the good of others."

Miss Lane kept silence, but her air of incredulity proved that she did not fathom Mr. Harland's reasoning.

"Perhaps," she finally admitted, "it might be so if these girls were being educated to move in a polished circle. But their lives seem destined to be spent in household drudgery: what scope can there exist for any natural or acquired mental endowments ?"

"More than might strike one at a casual glance. Such minds have commonly a marvellous faculty of putting themselves in the place of

others, so to speak, and that too when unaided by the light of actual experience. Take the imaginative person who has never known illness or poverty. His ministrations in the sick room or the crowded court will be tenfold more valuable than are those of one who cannot realise any condition which has never fallen to his lot."

"Yes, that is possible; in fact I feel sure you are right," Miss Lane responded thoughtfully.

"Then as regards the sublime truths of religion," pursued Mr. Harlaud, “minds of this stamp will grasp a vast idea almost by intuition. Where others might yield cold assent,' a living faith, warm, glowing, and real, will be their portion. Amid the most repulsive forms of vice and destitution, they will discern the members of CHRIST's mystic Body, nay more, our blessed LORD Himself, 'sick and in prison,' waiting till we shall go forth in obedient love, and minister' to His necessities."

"If but such images might mingle with our daily lives, they would indeed transform earthly existence !" Miss Lane suddenly exclaimed, with heartfelt earnestness.

"And wherefore should they not ?" asked Mr. Harland, with somewhat of a child's wondering simplicity.

"It may be natural to those whose thoughts are spiritualised, but I have long striven to be prosaic, and perhaps you may deem I have only too well succeeded."

"Probably the success is more imperfect than you fancy," replied Mr. Harland, “but allow me to inquire what was your motive in thus seeking to impoverish your whole mental and moral being ?"

'My history, which is by no means an uncommon one, will best answer that question," said Miss Lane. "I am the only child of a small farmer in Cumberland, and have received an education far above my rank. My mother died when I was very young, and my poor father's chief ambition was to rear me for a higher station than his own. I was allowed to cultivate expensive habits, and placed at a boarding school attended by the best masters our little country town afforded. My father's small resources were expended in preparing me for the position of an accomplished governess, but-" here the narrator paused, habitual reserve regaining the ascendancy, till won by Mr. Harland's unobtrusive sympathy, she went on in a hurried voice: "Just after I had passed my fifteenth birthday, and when still an unformed girl of average capacity, my one surviving parent was removed from

me. That event changed my whole career. I was cast penniless upon the world, unable to aspire to anything beyond the charge of children in the nursery. Happily I was conscientious, and soon finding I could not successfully impart even the rudiments of modern languages, music, and drawing, I resolved to qualify myself for the position of a parish schoolmistress. An opening such as I sought was soon obtained, and for twelve years I laboured in Northamptonshire, first under an experienced teacher, then as the head of a large national school. There I had hoped to end my days in peace, but GOD has ordered otherwise, for last spring it was made clear to myself and all around me, that my life could only be prolonged by removal to some milder climate."

'Why did you not sooner confide in me, my dear child ?" asked the vicar, as he clasped the hand of his still youthful visitor. "I will not now inquire into the wisdom of those parents who have acted on your father's principle: it is a course I could rarely advise, yet I believe that many who have passed through this hard ordeal are made invaluable links between the great divisions of society, fitted by birth to understand the one class, and by education to feel with the other. In your own case this truth is strongly marked; the usefulness of your life here will be vastly increased by your superior attainments. Not only will your parish labours be pursued with more intelligence, but I must look upon you as the gift of a kind Providence, designed to meet the absolute craving of both my nieces, and especially the younger, for refined companionship."

A faint flush overspread Miss Lane's cheek as she quickly answered, "To be their associate upon equal terms? O no, impossible! Not for the first time has this great temptation been held out to me, but I have hitherto resisted its indulgence. GOD has Himself appointed these earthly distinctions. What an example to the young under my care, if I should be the first to disregard them!"

"You have kept this resolve at an immeasurable cost," said Mr. Harland, and his tone was full of the respect awakened by a depth of character of which he had formed no previous conception.

'Yes, indeed; it has been a sacrifice of which but few know the extent. Now you will make allowance for my seeming severity towards little Millicent. I would fain keep the child an humble cottage maiden, and thus shelter her from all I have endured."

ઃઃ

Keep her as lowly as you will; true knowledge and humility go