heartily in a great or good work! What can more clearly prove how contemptible one's natural disposition is? The remedy lies, I think, not in argument, but in reviewing things truly. Envy is a moral obliquity of sight; when we see truly it will cease, and this verse gives us the thought by which we may work out the cure of our defect. All members of the body are essential to the body-in other words, all talents, whether of intellect, or accomplishment, or dexterity, all powers of the mind, all affections of the heart, are essential to the well-being of the community; and as such are all necessary to God's Creation. Each one of us fills a position that no one else can fill. If it were not so we may believe that we should not, as individuals, have been created. The work, therefore, which seems small, is as useful, and our aim in carrying it out may be as high, as that of the most gifted of our fellow-creatures. They could not do without us, and we could not do without them. And we are working, if our motive is right, for God's glory. The least labour for that object has in it an infinite privilege and value, and if the end at which we aim cannot be attained without another's excellencies, we can safely and heartily rejoice in that excellency, because it is, in fact, a furtherance of the cause we have at heart. This ought to be our view of duty, and if it is not, we should be continually reminding ourselves of it, teaching ourselves-by line upon line and precept upon precept to see the truth of our Christian position, and by that means bringing ourselves to true Christian feeling.

Romans xii. 5. . . And every one members one of another.

This portion of the text requires a separate consideration. I really think that it is the most difficult lesson of all to remember. The reason, of course, is that we are all so imperfect. When one sees persons doing what they ought not it is very difficult to realise that they are members of the Body of Christ; and in so far as they do wrong they are not strictly members. If we acknowledge this it may help us, for when we strive to be more charitable than truth, we become-secretly often and involuntarily, but nevertheless really-uncharitable. It seems best to deal with others as with ourselves; to face the reality. Only there is one great difference in the two cases. Our own reality we do see and can see; the reality of others we cannot. But the fact that they are externally members of Christ's Body, and are His by virtue of their Baptism, is evident to all. It is the part of reason therefore to act according to that we know, rather than that which we only suspect. All acts and feelings of kindness, sympathy, forbearance, which could be claimed by the true members of Christ's Body-those who are such in spirit as well as in outward profession-are on this account due to all—because all are in a certain sense true members. The outward fact is undeniable. We may fear from what we see that many are more or less inwardly untrue, but we cannot be certain. Till we are, we may not venture to act upon

the fear except so far as may be required by Christian precaution. Especially we have no right to set up standards of our own by which to measure the amount of membership-if one may so say. Christ is measuring those whom we perhaps condemn as He measures us, and He may see in them many things which approach much more nearly to His standard than our imaginary one would. One thing we may be sure of, that everything which is good in them is His, and as being His is worthy of all honour. Perhaps this thought would help us to have right feelings towards those who differ from us in religious doctrines. All which they hold of truth, they hold from Christ, and for His sake it may and must be honoured; and in so far as they have any truth in them, so far they are true members of His Body,—one with us, working for one end. And for ourselves-we call ourselves true members-but every indulged fault makes us, in the degree in which we indulge it, untrue. If we see this in others they see it in us, and God sees it in all.

Romans xii. 6, 7, 8. Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith; or ministry, let us wait on our ministering; or he that teacheth, on teaching; or he that exhorteth, on exhortation.

Here again, the gifts bestowed upon us are to be our guide as to the duties we undertake; and the Christian faith we profess is to be the measurement of our fulfilment of them. We are not to expect of ourselves more than God has given us power to do, and we are not to attempt more than He by outward circumstances and our own talents -be they large or small—has plainly shown us He demands from us. It may be difficult to decide what our capacities and the claims upon us really are; but an honest heart will show us sufficiently clearly the gifts bestowed on us, and from them we may discover the duty allotted to us. When we have ascertained this, then our business is to wait upon the duty-not to make it wait upon us, but to give ourselves to it so thoroughly as to listen to the slightest call and obey it instantly. It is a great point in life to know how to proportion one's duties-which to put first; and more is done by making one thing our object, and compelling everything else to fit into it, than by attempting to attend to many things and so completing only a portion of each. Women for the most part have seldom any one prominent worldly duty which always has the first claim; but each day may bring its special claim, and it is a good selfdiscipline to look forward into the day and decide in the morning what this claim shall be. It gives strength and consistency to the conduct; for to work without aim or rule is to work for the most part uselessly; and the consciousness of working uselessly is followed by not working at all.

(To be continued.)

LOOSE LEAVES FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A CIVIL

ENGINEER.

EDITED BY MRS. ELIZABETH WORMELEY LATIMER.

III.

HOWARD'S LICK.

THE following letter which I wrote to my sister in England in the autumn of the year in which I joined the survey of the Alleghanies can hardly be called a 'Leaf from my Note-Book,' though I found it preserved for transcription between its pages.

'MY DEAR E.,-I received letters from England last week most unexpectedly. They reached me at this very extraordinary place with a very singular name. The post-master at the village to which our letters are directed, knowing that I had ridden up here to a tournament, wrapped my letters in a newspaper and entrusted the package to a gentleman who came up after me. The ways of postmasters are primitive in the Old Dominion (as Virginians love to call their native State), and last month when an English mail came in, on enquiring for my letters, I was informed that I should find the post-master in the harvest-field, where, having received instruction's from Washington to keep the mail always under his own roof, he had taken the letters with him. Much wondering how he reconciled his practice with the precept, I rode after him. I found him like the king on the shield of Achilles, directing the labours of his "cradlers" and binders, watching the wide swathes cut by the heavy "cradles," and on my asking if I had had any foreign letters by the last steamer, he seated himself upon a limestone rock, and taking off his hat, produced from its lining eight or ten letters. These he sorted on the rock beside him, and handed me the two I was hoping to receive.

'Howard's Lick, so named because deer used to come down here from the hills to lick the salt from its mineral spring, is a collection of little log cabins round the said spring, which is principally sulphur. I rode over here yesterday with a young lady who had asked me to accompany her to a tournament planned to celebrate

(somewhat out of date) the national holiday, the Fourth of July. In Virginia the day is not so generally observed as it is in almost all the other States, nevertheless the young people and the negroes do not like to lose a holiday. It therefore often happens that the hands on a plantation are induced to work hard in the harvest field upon the "Glorious Fourth" with the bribe of a grand holiday to replace it when the wheat-crop is secured. This year, August 4 has been fixed on as the substitute.

Miss Harriett is the daughter of a gentleman who has shown me great kindness. She is a very beautiful and winning girl, with more freedom of manner than I think you would care to imitate, but such are the ways and customs of this part of the world. Old people in Virginia are content to see young girls flutter their gay wings and lead a life of merriment until the inevitable day arrives when they suffer wedding-rings to be slipped upon their fingers, and they assume the heavy burthen of responsibility that falls in this state of society on the mistress of a plantation.

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'The only road that leads to Howard's Lick is almost impassable. It crosses a mountain 1200 feet above sea-level, by an ascent on one side of about four miles. It took us six hours to get across it, and all our party arrived a good deal exhausted. No one goes to a Tavern," as they call it, in this hospitable country. Every white man of good appearance can ride up to a planter's house, "hitch" his horse to a fence-rail or to the "rack," and find his welcome at the planter's table. There were no less than eight-and-twenty uninvited guests last night besides myself and Miss Harriett, accommodated in the mansion of a hospitable planter, one of her father's friends. All were on their way to the Tournament.

'Howard's Lick is so crowded that I owe it to the personal exertions of Miss Harriett that I have secured a small room in the pine box, which this time is not called the tavern, but the hotel. The building consists principally of an enormous ball-room. I am writing on my washhand stand by the light of a country-made dipcandle. Its wick is as big round as a lead pencil with a sort of mushroom for its crown.

Round this hotel are built a number of log cabins, put up by planters in the neighbourhood for their own accommodation. A log cabin consists principally of a stone chimney, to which is appended a building something between a stable and a wood-pile.

'The amusements at Howard's Lick, when no tournament is on hand, consist in drinking sulphur-water, lounging, playing games with the young ladies, and whittling. I had been told that this last was a propensity in New England; but Blake (who is here) tells me that no Yankee in the six New England States understands the luxury of whittling like these people. A gentleman I met last evening mentioned, as one of the attractions of the Lick, that they had here the best timber for whittling he ever saw. There is the

greatest quantity of white pine shingles lying around, of a softness and tenacity of grain that "invite the knife," and accordingly every man you meet has a knife and a piece of wood in his hand, and appears absorbed in the effort to create something. On arriving at the hotel I found that Blake and some other young men had had chairs carried to a shady place where I joined them; instantly a servant brought me, as a matter of course, a piece of shingle.

'Dress is not thought of in these Hills. It is impossible to carry out Lord Chesterfield's advice and dress a little below the standard of your company. Most of the men's clothes are home-made and even home-spun. Several have coats of admirable grey linen, woven in the mountains. The waistcoat is discarded in ordinary intercourse, and Miss Harriett said yesterday, that if I would follow the customs of the place she would work me, on silk canvas with floss silks, a "most elegant" pair of suspenders.

'The ladies play graces, jack-straws, and in some of the cabins, cards; but I have seen no gambling or disorder of any kind. The primary object of the place seems to be to throw together young ladies and young men. Quoits are pitched, and girls look on, encouraging the players. There is also a game at which the men are very expert. It seems to consist in throwing jack knives.

'The fare is clean and excellent. Mountain mutton, a bread that they call pone, composed of Cobbett's corn (they call it Indian meal), and there are plenty of huckleberry dumplings. Their sugar is drawn from maple-trees, of which there are groves in the neighbourhood. Miss Harriett proposed, yesterday, that we should ride up here after the first frost when the sugar camps will be in operation.

The tournament comes off to-morrow at 5 P.M. The knights are making their preparations and engaging the services of the young ladies. The lists have been carefully cleared of stumps and bits of shingle, and as I write a brass militia-band from Moorfield is coming down the mountain. The members of the band are black, and they are attended by a crowd of negroes bearing torches. These have been given a holiday to share the fun. I must go out and look at them.'

The tournament came off according to programme, but it was by no means the most interesting feature of this very novel place. Possibly I was out of sorts, or, as Miss Harriett was pleased to put it, out of humour. Be that as it may, a little passage-at-arms occurred between us, and fearing I might say something I should regret, if I lingered in her company, I walked down to the spring and drank four glasses of the water. The negro in attendance told me it would make me "strong enough to pull up saplings." To test it I turned into the woods. I got up a young tree, with considerable toil; it had a long and crooked root. I was sorry when I had pulled it

up. It