you must seek her elsewhere. As for me, I shall never marry any one but Karl Schubert."

As she spoke these words, the young girl turned quickly towards the mill, leaving her suitor too much taken by surprise to follow her or seek any further explanation. It was true that he had heard of this Karl Schubert, a blacksmith, but he had never dreamt of finding in him a favoured rival.

As Albrecht Elshagen slowly turned towards Vienna, he felt that he had not been fairly dealt with, though he was too generous to taunt Nina with the memory of that eventful afternoon in the Würstel Präter, or the presents which she had accepted from him.

Nina, meantime, had hurried homewards in no enviable state of mind, for she well knew that she had not been blameless in the matter. As she entered the mill, her aunt watched her with curiosity, evidently expecting to hear some news, but Nina, fearful that the glowing fire-light would reveal her emotion, quickly took up a newspaper which was lying on the table, and sat down on a low stool by the fire to read it. At first she glanced at it carelessly, but the heading of one of the columns arrested her attention.

"Ah! that is the Zeitung which Albrecht Elshagen brought me," said Frau Lenkhof, "he knows that your uncle hears the news abroad, and seldom brings me home a paper, though little enough is the time I have for reading. But tell me, Nina, my child," she added, "did you not meet Albrecht just now?"

But Nina heeded not her aunt's words, nay she heard them not, so engrossed was she in the news which she eagerly devoured, for they were tidings of the war, tidings such as she had hitherto longed for in vain of that eighth corps under the Archduke Leopold, in which Karl served. She read on hurriedly, breathlessly, for seldom indeed had the Zeitung contained such exciting news. The Prussians had been victorious in three engagements, in one of which Kamming, the Austrian General, had been defeated at Nachod, by the army of the Crown Prince of Prussia. Upon this, the Archduke Leopold had been ordered to join General Kamming who had retreated to the town of Skalitz.

In her agitation, Nina could scarcely read on when she had read thus far, here was Karl on the very eve of a battle, for only a few lines farther on, her eye caught the words, "Action of Skalitz." Yes, on the 28th of June, in that eventful battle, was decided whether the Prussian army should succeed in making its way through the mountains, by what were called the gates of Bohemia, or be driven back. It was a terrible struggle, and both sides fought bravely, but the Austrians were compelled to give up one position after another, until the wood on the north of the town was taken, and Skalitz itself was stormed. This was the news which the Crown Prince of Prussia had received, as he waited anxiously on the neighbouring hill of Kosteletz, within sound of the rolling thunder of the cannons. General Steinmetz had won a great victory, but the Austrian girl cared not for Crown Princes or Generals; her eye quickly passed on to the long list which was given on the next page, of some of the killed and wounded. She scarcely dared to read it, for the names, to her excited feelings,

Reflection.

seemed written in blood. Her aunt, surprised at her long silence, was watching her with curiosity, when she saw the paper fall to the ground, and Nina, burying her face in her hands, trying to check the convulsive sobs that betrayed her.

"What has happened? What is it, Nina?" exclaimed Frau Lenkhof, in alarm. "I did hear something about a battle in the mountains, but why should you take it to heart like this?"

The poor girl could not answer; she was overcome by the violence of her grief, for there, amongst the names in that sad record of those who were missing, of whom it was still unknown whether they were killed or wounded, was "Karl Schubert."

T

Reflection

ON THE WEEVILS IN A GRANARY.

BY JAMES HILDYARD, B.D., RECTOR OF INGOLDSBY.

HESE little animals are so numerous and so destructive that in a few months they have almost entirely demolished a heap, consisting of six quarters of barley.

Their method is to bore a small hole into the centre of the grain, from whence they extract all the farinaceous part, leaving the husk hollow. No one, who had not seen is effect with his own eyes, could realize it, for the desolation is

more complete than if fifty mice or half-a-dozen rats had been at work for the same time; with this only difference, that the injury done by the weevil is not so apparent to the casual observer, as the shell of the corn still remains, like that of a nut whose inside has been devoured by a grub, while all the nutritive portion is effectually removed. And yet the little insect itself is so tiny that it would pass easily through the eye of a tolerably-sized needle.

Alas, even so it is with the state of man, if not under the constant influence of the Spirit of grace. A multitude of the smaller defects of character will so undermine his soul's health, that, though no. perhaps obvious to the ordinary spectator, it shall, in reality, be in a more desperate condition than if subject to the influence of some one or two more decided tendencies to vice.

This petty plague of evil habits in little things, long indulged with impunity, gradually saps the foundation of all moral virtue within, and cats up, as it were, imperceptibly, all the better qualities both of head and heart; till at length nothing is left but an empty shell, fair indeed as ever to look upon, but, when put to the test, proving nothing but a dry heap of husks.

And yet all the while that this fearful devastation was going on, there was nothing on which to lay the finger as calling for severe and immediate correction. Oh, it is only a trifle! Dear me, what a fuss to make about such a little matter as that!

And then comes the moral of the tale.-Who would have thought it? The unchecked small beginnings have increased till their number at length is legion. That which was weak and powerless when single has become irresistible by being multiplied; and the whole man falls a prey to the unwise disregard of Little things.

Hearty Hints to Lay Officers of the Church.

BY GEORGE VENABLES, S.C.L., VICAR OF S. MATTHEW'S, LEICESTER.

THE ORGANIST.

ERY glad am I that I had not to write upon this subject twenty years ago. If attempted then, the task would have been undertaken with a consciousness that it must excite the ire of many of the organists of that day. For their system must have been attacked altogether. Who would now endure the interludes, voluntaries, grace notes, flourishes, and grand display of 'talent' which called forth the wonderment of the untutored mind of that period, and the envy of the youth who was "just beginning to play a little ?"

Certainly very few modern organists would endure such performances, and the improvement in the taste of most church congregations is such as would scarcely tolerate them. This being the case, it is needless to dwell further upon these associations with the Organ-loft' of earlier days.

Hearty Hints to Lay Officers of the Church.

In dwelling upon the characteristics of a good organist, it is almost needless to say that he must be able to play with considerable accuracy and feeling. While avoiding all extravagancies in any display of feeling, he will know and appreciate the vast power for good which lies in giving a religious expression, when playing the organ, to the sentiments contained in the words which are being chanted or sung. Many expressions in the Book of Psalms call for the deepest feeling; and a good organist-entering in his own soul into the depths of the Psalmist's emotions-will not fail to express them, and to make the congregation feel them also, by the very mode in which he performs his duties on the

organ.

The organist of the present day ought to be, and often is, a thoroughly devout and reverential man. You will not find him, while prayer, or reading, or preaching are proceeding, occupied with the arrangement of what he has next to do. With occasional unavoidable exceptions, you will see him coming forth from his seat (habited it may be like the rest of the choir in his surplice), and humbly kneeling on his knees, and joining with the great congregation in earnest supplication to his God. Not that he is screened off at other times with curtains from the people. Nothing of the kind. He feels, in common with all honest churchmen, that just as all shams are hateful, so screens are needless to conceal any man in the performance of any necessary function in God's House of prayer or praise. "It is well seen, O my God, how thou goest in the Sanctuary. The singers go before, the minstrels follow after, in the midst are the damsels playing upon the timbrels." There is no concealment. What wondrous wrath did I and my superior brother curate draw down upon us once (but that is a long time ago) for daring to remove the old curtain which had for years concealed all sorts of performances between the organ and the said curtain amongst the organist and choir! But we braved the storm, and a delightful calm succeeded, for it was seen that we were right!

It has come to our ears-yea, the very bottles have been palpable to our astonished vision--that beer and wine have been 'smuggled' into the organ loft, deposited within the organ, and sipped freely during the parson's sermon. The curtain fell, and this indecent outrage ceased. But most organists now have better feelings, and would not thus desecrate the House of God, or indeed lower their own character and self-respect. Organists now-a-days are often men of true reverence and devotion; indeed, a really good organist must be a religious man. No other man will long distinguish himself in his renderings' of certain portions of the services. It is admitted that men of taste and tact may do much, but there are points even in organ playing, where, just as a halo of religious feeling seems to shine round the face of the man who holds much and close intercourse with his God, so an inspiration of the force of truth seems to accompany the very fingering of an organ by the devout musician,

The organist of this character (and such is the true organist) will take great pains in the discharge of every point of his duty.

He carefully reads every verse of the hymn to be sung, and he and the precentor (who is the vicar probably), while fully agreeing as to the advantage of using the same tune to the same hymn, will also agree that that very tune requires a considerable difference in the mode wherein it is applied to one verse of a hymn, and then to perhaps the next verse that follows. When this subject is wisely attended to, and the tune is rendered with good feeling, the effect is delightful and devotional.

We have put the propriety of an organist being religious on scientific grounds. Might we not also put it on a far higher principle? We have heard soul-inspiring and delightful strains (which have made some hearers weep) from the performances of men whose characters were far from satisfactory. Is it not a distressing thing to hear almost heavenly music produced by the agency of minds not set heavenward? Few thoughts are so solemn as the remembrance that preachers may point heavenward, choristers may sing heavenly songs, and organists may half lift the soul to heaven by their music, and yet themselves not be safely pursuing the narrow way which leadeth unto life. We say this, though happily convinced that while our warning is solemn and necessary, it by no means applies to all organists.

Organists are often choir-masters. It is perhaps desirable they should be, and that they should exercise the choirs thoroughly. In doing this it is often well, however, that they get another to play the organ while they drill the choir; for otherwise they cannot hear the defects or correct the blunders very readily. The vicar is usually precentor, and as such selects, of course, the hymns and tunes, and chants, as in a cathedral. But when a proper feeling exists, the precentor and the organist will be in unison,' and will act together in all things tending to promote "the praise and glory of God."

The model organist is a really humble man. He is conscious of the great importance of his office, but his conduct in all things is that of a man of God. Reverential and devout, he takes an evident interest in all he has to do, he is ever eager to maintain the best feeling and the best behaviour amongst all the members of his choir.

Church-organists are now a large and highly respectable body of men, and in hinting to them how to discharge their duties aright, I say to them with much good feeling,-'Aim to excel in your noble profession. Be good players. Cultivate much delicacy and feeling in your playing. Enter fully into the meaning of the words to which the music is being applied. Be thoroughly reverent and devout at those times of the service when you are not professionally engaged. Rather, too, encourage exposure than claim a needless amount of concealment. And let me add the earnest hope that they who so admirably lead the chants and songs of praise of the church on earth may be men of true religion, who shall renew their glorious anthems in the church of just men made perfect hereafter. It is dreadful to think of any other alternative. In every sense, then, of the word, do I say to our organists, BE HEARTY."