THE FIRST DAY IN THE QUARRY.

THEA

HE name of Hugh Miller is well-known. He devoted himself early to a life of hard labour as a quarryman and a mason; and by the steady exercise of the powers which God had given him, rose to a position of much usefulness and honour. His story has been often told, to show what can be done by the wise use of common means. He has himself in one of his books, "The Old Red Sandstone," described the feelings with which he began work, and the happiness he found in it.

"It is twenty years," he says, " since I set out a little before sunrise to make my first acquaintance with a life of labour and restraint, and I have rarely had a heavier heart than on that morning. I was but a slim, loose-jointed boy at the time-fond of dreaming when broad awake; and, woful change I was now going to work in a quarry. Bating the passing uneasiness occasioned by a few gloomy anticipations, the portion of my life which had already gone by had been happy beyond the common lot. I had been a wanderer among rocks and woods a reader of curious books when I could get them—a gleaner of old traditionary stories; and now I was going to exchange all my day-dreams, and all my amusements, for the kind of life in which men toil every day that they may be enabled to eat, and eat every day that they may be enabled to toil.

"The quarry in which I wrought lay on the southern shore of a noble inland bay, or frith rather, with a little clear stream on the one side, and a thick fir wood on the other. It had been opened in the Old Red Sandstone of the district, and was overtopped by a huge bank of diluvial clay, which rose over it in some places to the height of nearly thirty feet, and which at this time was rent and shivered, wherever it presented an open front to the weather, by a recent frost. A heap of loose fragments, which had fallen from above, blocked up the face of the quarry, and my first employment was to clear them away. The friction of the shovel soon blistered my hands, but the pain was by no means very severe, and I wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how the huge strata below, which presented so firm and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up and removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were applied by my brother-workmen; and simple and rude as I had been accustomed to regard these implements, I found I had much to learn in the way of using them. They all proved inefficient, however, and the workmen had to bore into one of the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder.

"The process was new to me, and I deemed it a highly amusing one; it had the merit, too, of being attended with some such degree of danger as a boating or rock excursion, and had thus an interest independent of its

novelty. We had a few capital shots: the fragments flew in every direction; and an immense mass of the diluvium came toppling down, bearing with it two dead birds, that in a recent storm had crept into one of the deeper fissures, to die in the shelter. I felt a new interest in examining them. The one was a pretty cock goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion, and its wings inlaid with the gold to which it owes its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it had been preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat rarer bird, of the woodpecker tribe, was variegated with light blue and a greyish-yellow. I was engaged in admiring the poor little things, more disposed to be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten years older, and thinking of the contrast between the warmth and jollity of their green summer haunts, and the cold and darkness of their last retreat, when I heard our employer bidding the workmen lay by their tools. I looked up and saw the sun sinking behind the thick fir wood beside us, and the long dark shadows of the trees stretching downwards towards the shore.

"This was no very formidable beginning of the course of life I had so much dreaded. To be sure, my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly as much fatigued as if I had been climbing among the rocks; but I had wrought and been useful, and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as usual. It was no small matter, too, that the evening, converted by a rare transmutation into the delicious 'blink of rest,' was all my own. I was as light of heart next morning as any of my brother-workmen. All the workmen rested brother-workmen. All the workmen rested at mid-day, and I went to enjoy my halfhour alone on a mossy knoll in the neighbouring wood, which commands through the trees a wide prospect of the bay and the opposite shore."

After describing the scene, he says, "I returned to the quarry, convinced that a very exquisite pleasure may be a very cheap one, and that the busiest employments may afford leisure enough to enjoy it."

Various wonders soon disclosed themselves in the rocks; marks of furrows, as of an ebbing tide, fretted in the solid stone, fossil shells, and fish, and leaves of plants. Almost every day opened new discoveries to his curious eye, and awakened deeper interest. And thus began that course of observation and study which made him famous as a geologist, and enabled him to render valu able help in the progress of science.

His first year of labour came to a close, and he found that "the amount of his happiness had not been less than in the last of his boyhood. The additional experience of twenty years," he adds, "has not shown me that there is any necessary connection between a life of toil and a life of wretchedness."

My advice," said Hugh Miller, recalling these facts, "to young working-men desirous

of bettering their circumstances, and adding to the amount of their enjoyment, is a very simple one. Do not seek happiness in what is misnamed pleasure; seek it rather in what is termed study. Keep your consciences clear, your curiosity fresh, and embrace every opportunity of cultivating your minds. Learn. to make a right use of your eyes: the commonest things are worth looking at-even stones and weeds, and the most familiar animals. Read good books, not forgetting the best of all: there is more true philosophy in the Bible than in every work of every sceptic that ever wrote; and we should be all miserable creatures without it, and none more miserable than you."

"THE WISE WOMAN."

NEVER cut your nails of a Friday,

Betsy," said the schoolmistress to a little girl who had been kept, and was waiting for her patchwork to be placed.

"Why not?" said a man who lounged against the open school-room door, waiting for the carrier to pass.

"It's the unluckiest thing as can be," was the answer.

"Grandmothers' tales !" said the man.

The carrier came, and in his cart was a sickly looking man wrapped up in flannels and leaning on his wife's shoulder.

"How late you are," cried he that was waiting at the door. "I've stood here this half hour."

"It was Allen kept me; he was telling me about the new folks come to the Spinneys. They've killed two pigs in the fall of the moon-never heard tell of such a thingdid you?"

"No! but I've heard they're a very queer set-who's that in the cart?"

"Jim Brown: don't you know him?"

How he is altered! I see now it is he ; but he is changed with his illness sure enough. Where's he going-to the doctor?"

"Oh he's tired of doctoring, he's going to the wise woman to be charmed."

"That's where my aunt went, and she did her a deal of good too, only she took worse after and died."

"They say she is wonderful clever."

"I should think she is. There was old Hanks went to her for his ague; and she gave him a charm, just a bit of writing done up with a string and waxed down, and she says, 'Put it in your pocket, and while you keep it there you'll never shake no more.' "( And did he ?"

"No! I believe he didn't: they say as he didn't; but I didn't know him."

The carrier got into his cart, and the man turned round to the schoolmistress to say how sadly Jim Brown looked, and he hoped the wise woman would cure him.

The schoolmistress laughed. "Why, don't you believe in her?" said he, looking surprised.

"I don't see why I should," she replied; "a charm in the pocket is quite as much 'grandmothers' tales' as cutting your nails of a Friday's being unlucky."

The man didn't agree with her, and while they were arguing the clergyman stepped in to inquire after the schoolmistress' rheumatism, and they told him their debate and asked his opinion of the wise woman.

"When I was a boy," he said, "my father had a servant who had saved money by industry and sober habits. He wanted to marry and keep a cow, but to do this, double of what he had was necessary. He worked early and late; but the money tree was long in growing: the young woman impatient; and he was afraid he should lose her. One day he came to my father looking very grave and saying, 'Sir, there's a wise woman come to the town, she can do all manner of wonderful things.'

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was

Can she?' said my father, I wish she would keep the wasps from the apricots.'

"I thought,' said Wat, ' of trying her.' "He looked doubtful, and my father was sure from his manner there was something important on his mind.

"What for, Wat?' he asked.

"Wat looked half ashamed, but said, 'To double my money.'

"Nonsense, impossible; you don't believe she can?' said my father.

in

my

"I do though,' said Wat, for she turned a half-crown into a five shilling piece in my hand yesterday, and if I hold all I have got hand she will do the same by it.' "My father tried to convince him it was a trick, and that the woman was an impostor; but Wat was not to be shaken. He didn't contradict or answer, but he went straight away (after my father had told him that if the woman had any such power it was from the evil one), and took his little canvas bag to her, feeling sure he should be able to put up his banns next Sunday, for his money would be doubled.

"If my father had known he was going so hastily he would have followed him to prevent mischief, but he did not.

"The wise woman took the bag in her hand and told him to kneel down while she said the charm. She went behind him and

began to mutter.
told him to get up.
she said, 'and wanted a long time in chang-
ing.'

He was glad when she
It was a deal of money,'

"She put the bag in his hand, and told him if he opened it before twelve o'clock at night he would break the charm. It was very heavy, and poor Wat's heart danced within him as he felt it and thought of his luck.

"He couldn't hide his delight from my father, who soon made him break the charm and open the bag which contained nothing but copper money. So convinced was he of her power, that at first he was frantic with himself for having broken the charm; but

my father took a policeman after the woman, who had left the place. She was followed and found, however, with Wat's money on her, and had a long time in jail for her wonderful doings."

"Well, he deserved to lose his money. Before I'd have trusted mine in that way!" said the man.

"Health is more valuable than money," said the clergyman. "And yet you would trust this woman with your life."

Much more he said to show that the wise woman was ignorant of medicine, and did not even pretend to receive her power from God in answer to prayer. "God works by means," he said, " and has given us medicines to heal us, and understanding to know how to use them. Let us keep to his gifts, and not go to the god of lies,' like King Ahaziah (2 Kings i. 2) in his sickness." "Then you don't hold with charms of any kind?" said the man.

The clergyman shook his head.

"For instance, killing pigs at the right time of the moon, and cutting your nails of a Friday, and crossing knives, and spilling salt, and seeing one magpie, and plenty more things that the mistress and me were talking about when you came in?"

"Many of those things had their rise from curious causes, and some day when I have time I will find them out and tell you all about them; but while some are harmless in their effects, others are not. For myself, since all my times are in God's hands, I know not how I can be unlucky; and the only charm I trust in is this," said the clergyman, laying his hand on the Bible. "With this in my heart I am afraid of nothing: it is the safe and certain light that will never fail nor deceive; it teaches me that all true help and wisdom come from God, and saves me from every needless fear, and from ignorant impostors."

"Then I may cut my nails on a Friday, mistress?" said Betty.

"Ay, child, if the minister's right; and sure I never saw that it was wrong to do it in the Bible."

the discharge of higher duties. Does not every wise mother know that, if the elder children are harshly treated, they will generally tyrannize over and ill-use the little ones? And, for the same reason, the little ones soon learn to bicker and quarrel with one another.

One great point in the comfort of every family, rich and poor, is a habit of civility and kindness amongst themselves. Never allow the bigger and the stronger to strike or oppress the smaller and the weaker; nor the weaker and the smaller to tease and vex one another. If the elder sister is rough to the baby, she is teaching that same baby a lesson of unkindness to the next baby.

Never let the children contradict one another rudely; nor use unfeeling words; nor snatch away a favourite toy little faults lead to great. The Bible precept, "Be courteous," includes all these things, and a great deal more. For true courtesy extends to the feelings of others, as well as to their outward welfare.

It is of great importance, in the decent. training of all children, that order, neatness, and civility be kept up during meal-times. However frugal be the meal, however simple be the food, let each child be tidy and orderly, while partaking of it. Let each little hand and face be well washed, and let the hair be nicely combed. If possible, let each child be provided with a separate plate and spoon: these may be got very cheap. Order and neatness at meals are really points of so much moment in the comfort of every family, rich and poor, that we may be forgiven if the advice here offered seem a little intrusive.

A little incident in my own early childhood is still fresh in my remembrance. I happened to be calling at a very poor man's cottage at dinner-time. The labourer had just come in from his hard work. Dinner was quite ready. A very coarse, but clean cloth covered the table. The children's faces and hands had just been washed and a plate, and a little heap of salt, were tidily laid out for each. The dinner was, indeed, a simple one: it consisted only of potatoes; but thanks were as reverently given to the God of all goodness, as if it had been a feast. And the orderly manner in which the children ate their food might have been an example to the children of a nobleman. No doubt the blessing of God did descend on that meal and on that family.

And here we are brought back again to a truth which cannot too often be recalled to mind, namely, that without God's grace, no duty can be done aright; and, without his favour, there can be no true blessing. Mothers, we may toil and fret for our children's good all in vain. We must draw our strength and wisdom from on high. If we seek them of God, through Christ Jesus, every toil will be sweetened, and every care

THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE.

are sinners; all stand in need of a Saviour; and to all the same glad tidings come of pardon and

and he is the way for you; the only way. Read the Bible, and give heed to what it says.

the sea than ours. The sea is all around us. We cannot go to a foreign country without crossing the water. England has more sailors and fishermen than most countries, if not more than all.

couple of oars lean against the wall. Across the beams lies the mast of a boat, with a sail, and a net, and blocks, and ropes. A "sou'wester" (that's a kind of hat, John Ploughman,) hangs on a peg, and close by hangs the fisherman's lantern for dark nights. If he has any pictures, they are pretty sure to be about the sea. Here is a grand one of the manof-war aboard which he once served. She is in full sail, and little Jack and Bill think there never was so fine a ship as the "Victory," in which father used to sail, years ago, before he and mother came together. Then there are pretty sure to be a large shell or two from foreign parts, quite different from any of the little things we pick up on the beach at home. And, perhaps, if the fisherman is clever with his fingers, you may see a little basket, or a tiny chair or table, made of smaller shells stuck together.

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gentleman and cottager, ploughman and fisherman, all are invited in the gospel.

Of all men, sailors and fishermen should not neglect their souls; for no life is more full of danger. A sudden storm may come on at

INSIDE THE COTTAGE.

Seek the blood of Christ to make you clean. By God's grace, you may follow him, and keep company with him in heart, though you cannot go about with him in the body, as John, and James, and Peter did.

Ploughmen and fishermen lead very different lives; and so do men of other classes and employments. But in one respect all are alike. All

night, and the boat may never be heard of again. Such things have happened, and that not once or twice only.

Jesus Christ, when upon earth, lived chiefly near the sea-shore. More than once he preached from a boat, and several of his companions were fishermen. John and James were so, and Peter also. They loved Jesus truly; and doubtless they are with him now, where he is. Fisherman, look to it that you follow them thither. JESUS is the way. He was the way for them,

Nothing makes us so

happy as to have much of Christ in the heart. Think of him, as your boat floats idly on the sea, while you watch the net. Think of him, when the storm comes, and danger threatens. Think of him, seek him, flee to him, trust in him, now; that, come what may, you may be safe in him.

Fill up each hour with what will last;

Buy up the moments as they go: The life above, when this is past, Is the ripe fruit of life below.

Sow truth if thou the truth wouldst reap; Who sows the false shall reap the vain: Erect and sound thy conscience keep; From hollow words and deeds refrain.

Sow love and taste its fruitage pure; Sow peace and reap its harvest bright; Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor, And find a harvest-home of light.

Bonar.

IT

Children's Page.

LITTLE NELLY COLE.

T was a time of trouble for the family of Reuben Cole. Reuben had lived at Norton from the time of his marriage, twelve years ago, and had been in Mr. Benwell's employ all that time; but now Mr. Benwell was dead, and Reuben was out of work, and had to leave the village to seek it elsewhere. He had been gone about a week, when his eldest child, Mary, tripped in a cart-rut one evening after dark, and sprained her foot so badly, that she could not put it to the ground,

and therefore had to lie in bed. This was a sad misfortune for Mrs. Cole, who was obliged to stitch away all day to get bread for the children; for Mary was a great help to her, and, besides doing a little with her needle sometimes, could take charge of the baby and keep the cottage in order.

As for little Nelly, who was her father's pet, she was not of much use; and, I am sorry to say, she did not try to be of much use in this time of trouble. Instead of doing all she could to help her mother and save her trouble, she made things worse by pining and fretting about what could not be helped. She was often peevish and moping because father was not there to hoist her on his shoulder, or dandle her on his knee; or because Mary could not take her out for a walk; or because baby wouldn't be quiet in her arms, but cried and struggled to get back to his mother. The best excuse to be made for Nelly is, that she was very youngshe was barely seven-and perhaps she had been a

little too much indulged by her father.

When Saturday evening came there was some work, which Dame Cole had sat up several nights to finish, to be taken home to Mrs. Birch, at Hazel Farm. Mary was too ill to go: her mother could not leave the house and the baby to Nelly's care; so there was no one to send but Nelly herself. So the work was carefully covered up in the market-basket, and Nelly was sent off in good time, as the farm was more than a mile off, so that she might be safe at home before dark.

Nelly made no objection to the long walk: indeed, she felt rather proud of being of so much consequence as to be trusted with the big basket and her mother's work, and she trotted off to the farm willingly enough, looking quite pleased with her errand. When she got there, Mrs. Birch, the farmer's wife, paid

her for the work, and for fear that the little girl might lose the money, she wrapped it in paper, and pinned it to the inside of her pocket. Nelly made a curtsey, and said, "Thank you kindly, ma'am," and was going away.

"Stop," said the good wife, who knew that Reuben Cole was out of work, "we have done a grand baking to-day, and I may as well send your mother a loaf; and see, here are heaps of potatoes just brought in, do you think you can carry some of them too ?"

"Oh yes, please," said Nelly; "I can carry ever so many."

"Very well, then, take as many as you like."

NELLY AND THE HEAVY BASKET.

Nelly loaded her basket to her mind, and then, once more thanking her kind friend, set off home.

But the journey home was not so pleasant as the walk to the farm; the sun did not shine, but was low down in the sky, and behind a bank of cloud; the bread and the potatoes made the big basket very heavy, and Nelly found it a task to lug it along. Then the road was lonely, and looked dreary, and she did so wish she was at home; and then came the thought how uncomfortable it was at home, with father away, and Mary ill in bed, and the baby so cross. At length, tired with her heavy burden, and sad with her own thoughts, little Nelly sat down on a bank by the roadside to rest herself. She was rather sad as she sat there, wishing that father would come home, and that sister Mary would get about again,

and wondering whether mother would send her to the school to-morrow.

While her thoughts were busy in this way, she was startled suddenly by a touch on her shoulder, and looking up, she saw two ladies and a gentleman standing by her side. The lady who touched her was her teacher, Miss Ellis, who happened to be taking an evening walk with some friends.

"I thought it was Nelly Cole," said the lady. "What are you doing here, child?"

Nelly told where she had been, and said she was resting herself, the basket was so very heavy. She said this in a dismal, complaining

voice, as though she thought herself much to be pitied.

But instead of pitying her, Miss Ellis said, "How glad you must be, Nelly, to be able to help your mother a little in return for all she has done for you."

Nelly had not thought of being glad on this account, and she looked rather surprised.

"You see," the lady went on, "this is keeping the fifth commandment, which you learned last Sunday: it is honouring your parents, you know, to do all you can to help them."

Nelly had not thought of that either; but now it was thus brought to her mind, she knew it was quite right: in her heart she felt sorry that she had not thought of it days ago, and tried to be a help to her mother.

"God loves to see little children dutiful and helpful to their parents. He cares for them, and has sent his Son into the world to be their Saviour, and is willing to accept all their services of love as services to himself. Perhaps you have not thought of that, Nelly ?"

"No, teacher, I hadn't, but I won't forget it now; and I do want to help mother all I can."

"Well, I hope you do. Remember, if you pray to God to aid you, his Spirit will guide you in the right way, and make you happy yourself and a blessing to others."

While they were talking, Joe Bramble, the gardener at the Hall, drove by in his cart, and Miss Ellis bade him take up Nelly and her big basket, and put them down at her mother's door.

So, after all, Nelly got home without feeling very tired; and that very night she began to try how cheerful and helpful she could be. She was, in fact, so handy about the house, that her mother could hardly believe it was her Nelly; and she was so cheerful, that baby went to her willingly, and laughed and crowed in her face.