walls a place and a name better than of sons and of daughters: I will give them an everlasting name, that shall not be cut off."

E. N.

THE hamlet bearing this name is just within Hertfordshire, on the west side of the river Lea. It is so called from a cross erected here at one of the halting-places of the funeral procession of Eleanor, Queen of Edward I., on its way to London. On the other bank of the river Lea, and in Essex, is Waltham Abbey, once very improperly called

of before we ask Him." Martha observed her master's directions; but when she came near the house where she was ordered to beg for the loan of five shillings, through fear and bashfulness her heart failed her. At length Mr. N., standing at his shop-door, and seeing Martha in the street, called her to him, and said, "Are not you Mr. Heywood's servant?" She said, "Yes." He added, "I am glad to see you. Some friends at M—, have remitted to me five guineas for your master, and I was just thinking how I could contrive to send it." Martha burst into tears, and for some time could not speak. The wants of the family, their trust in Providence, the welltimed supply, and a variety of other ideas breaking in upon her mind at once, quite overpowered her. At length she told Mr. N. upon what errand she came, but that she had not courage to ask him to lend her poor master money. She made haste to procure the provisions, and, with a heart lightened of its burden, ran home to tell the success of her journey.

Though she had not been long absent, the hungry family had often looked wistfully out at the window for her arrival. When she knocked at her master's door, which was kept locked and barred, for fear of constables and bailiffs, it was presently opened; and the joy to see her was as great as when a fleet of ships arrives, laden with provisions for the relief of a starving town, closely besieged by an enemy. The children danced round the maid, eager to look into the basket; the patient mother wiped her eyes; the father smiled, and said, "The Lord hath not

"Holy Cross," from some story too silly for any little boy or girl now to believe about a cross reported to have been brought hither by miracle during the reign of Canute.

DEATH AND SLEEP.

THE Angel of Sleep and the Angel of Death walked the earth in a brotherly embrace. It was evening They laid them down on a hill, not far distant from the habitations of men. A melancholy stillnes reigned around, whilst the vesper-bell sounded i the distance. The night drew on, when the Ange of Sleep arose from his mossy couch, and scattere with gentle hand the invisible seeds of slumber The evening breezes wafted them towards th peaceful dwellings of the wearied husbandmen, wh were soon enfolded in the gentle arms of repos from the hoary-headed man with his staff to th suckling in the cradle. And now the sick man for gets his sufferings; the mourner, his sorrows; th poor, his cares: the seal of oblivion has closed ever eye. Having performed his tender office, the Ang of Sleep once more reclined beside his stern brothe and exclaimed, with innocent delight, "At th up-rising of the rosy morn, men also shall awake t bless me as their benefactor and friend. O, the blis of secret, invisible well-doing! Thrice happy w my brother! Secret ministers of the Spirit of good how beautiful is our still mission!" So spake th loving Angel. Death gazed on him in silent sorrow

and a tear, such as immortals weep, stood in his large, rayless eye. "Ah!" replied he, "why may not I luxuriate, as you do, in making others happy? Alas! I am only known on earth as the grand enemy—the joy-destroyer!" "Nay, my brother,” replied the Angel of Slumber, "will not the good man, at his last waking, hail thee as his best friend, with grateful blessings? Are we not ministering brothers of one great Father?" As he thus spaké, the dim eye of the Angel of Death flashed through its darkness, and the brotherly spirits once more were clasped in a loving embrace. From the German.

EVENING HYMN.

BY EDMESTON.

SAVIOUR, breathe an evening blessing,
Ere repose my spirit seal:

Sin and want to Thee confessing,

Thou canst save, and Thou canst heal.

Though destruction walk around me,
Though the arrow past me fly,
Angel-guards from Thee surround me:
I am safe, for Thou art nigh.

If the night be dark and dreary,
Darkness cannot hide from Thee:
Thou, whose eye is never weary,
Watchest where Thy people be.