THE LARK AND THE CATERPILLAR. A LESSON OF FAITH. "If a man die, shall he live again? All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." -JOB xvi. 14. "Le et me hire you as a nurse for my poor children," ," said a butterfly to a quiet caterpillar, who was strolling along a cabbage leaf in her odd lumbering way. "See these little eggs," continued the butterfly; "I don't know how long it will be before they come to life, and I feel very sick and poorly and if I should die, who will take care of my baby butterflies when I am gone? Will you, kind, mild, green caterpillar? But you must mind what you give them to eat, caterpillar! they cannot, of course, live on your rough food. You must give them early dew, and honey from the flowers; and you must let them fly about only a little way at first, for of course one can't expect them to use their wings properly all at once. Dear me! it is a sad pity you cannot fly yourself. But I have no time to look for a another nurse now, so you will do your best, I hope. think what made me on a cabbage leaf! What a place for young butterflies to be born upon! Still, you will be kind, will you not, to the poor little ones? Here, take this gold dust from my wings as a reward. Oh, how dizzy I am! Caterpillar! you will remember about the food! Dear! Dear! I cannot come and lay my eggs And with these words the butterfly closed her eyes and died; and the green caterpillar, who had not the opportunity of even saying yes or no to the request, was left standing alone by the side of the butterfly's eggs. "A pretty nurse she has chosen indeed, poor lady!" exclaimed she, "and a pretty business I have in hand! Why, her senses must have left her, or she never would have asked a poor crawling creature like me to bring up her dainty little ones. Much they'll mind me, truly, when they feel the gay wings on their backs, and can fly away out of my sight whenever they choose! Ah! how silly some poor people are, in spite of their painted clothes and the gold dust on their wings!" | grees his voice died away in the distance, till the green caterpillar could not hear a sound. It is nothing to say she could not see him, for, poor thing! she never could see far at any time, and had a difficulty in looking upwards at all, even when she reared herself up most carefully, which she did now; but it was of no use, so she dropped upon her legs again, and resumed her walk round the but However, the poor butterfly was dead, and there lay the eggs on the cabbage leaf, and the green caterpillar had a kind heart, so she resolved to do her best. But she got no sleep that night, she was so very anxious. She made her back quite ache with walking all that night long around her young charges, for fear any harm should happen to them; and interfly's eggs, mumbling a bit of the cabbage the morning says she to herself, "Two heads are better than one. I will consult some wise animal upon the matter, and get advice. How should a poor crawling creature like me know what to do without asking my betters?" But still there was a difficulty. Whom should the caterpillar consult? There was the shaggy dog who sometimes came into the garden. But he was so rough! he would most likely whisk all the eggs off the cabbage leaf with one brush of his tail, if she called him near to talk to her, and then she would never forgive herself. There was the tom cat, to be sure, who would sit at the foot of the apple tree, basking himself and warming his fur in the sunshine; but he was so selfish and indifferent! there was no hope of his giving himself the trouble to think about the butterfly's eggs. "I wonder which is the wisest of all the animals I know," sighed the caterpillar in great distress; and then she thought, and thought, till at last she thought of the lark and she fancied that because he went up so high, and nobody knew where he went to, he must be very clever and know a great deal, for to go up very high (which she could never do) was the caterpillar's idea of perfect glory. Now in the neighboring cornfield there lived a lark, and the caterpillar sent a message to him to beg him to come and talk to her; and when he came she told him all her difficulties, and asked him what she was to do to feed and rear the little creatures so different from herself. "Perhaps you will be able to inquire and hear something about it next time you go up high," observed the caterpillar timidly. The lark said, "Perhaps he should," but he did not satisfy her curiosity any further. Soon afterwards, however, he went singing upwards into the bright blue sky! By de leaf now and then as she moved along. "What a time the lark has gone!" she cried at last. "I wonder where he is just now! I would give all my legs to know! He must have flown up higher than usual this time I think! How I should like to know where it is that he goes to, and what it is that he hears in that curious blue sky! He always sings in going up and coming down, but he never lets any secret out. He is very, very close!" And the green caterpillar took another turn round the butterfly's eggs. At last the lark's voice began to be heard again. The caterpillar almost jumped for joy, and it was not long before she saw her friend descending and hovering over the cabbage bed. "News, news, glorious news, friend caterpillar!" sung the lark; but the worst of it is, you won't believe me!" "I believe everything I am told," observed the caterpillar hastily. "Well, then, first of all, I will tell what these little creatures are to eat," and the lark nodded his beak towards the eggs. "What do you think it is to be? Guess!" you ask me and then disbelieve what I say? You have neither faith nor trust." no reason why there should not be more. O caterpillar, it is because you never get beyond "Oh, I believe everything I am told," said your cabbage leaf that you call anything im the caterpillar. "Nay, but you do not," replied the lark. "You won't even believe me about the food, and yet that is but a beginning of what I have to tell you. Why, caterpillar, what do you think those little eggs will turn out to be?" "Butterflies, to be sure," said the caterpillar. "Caterpillars!" sung the lark, "and you'll find it out in time;" and the lark flew away, for he did not want to stay and contest the point with his friend. "I thought the lark had been wise and kind," observed the mild green caterpillar, once more beginning to walk round the eggs, "but I find that he is foolish and saucy intead. Perhaps he went up too high this time. And it's a pity when people who soar so high are silly and rude nevertheless! Dear! I still wonder whom he sees, and what he does up yonder." "I would tell you, if you would believe me," sung the lark, descending once more. "I believe everything I am told," reiterated the caterpillar, with as grave a face as if it were fact. "Then I'll tell you something else," cried the lark; "for the best of my news remains behind. You will one day be a butterfly yourself. "Wretched bird!" exclaimed the caterpillar, "you jest with my inferiority—now you are cruel as well as foolish. Go away! I will ask your advice no more." "I told you you would not believe me," cried the lark, nettled in his turn. "I believe everything I am told,” persisted the caterpillar; "that is"-and she hesitated -"everything that is reasonable to believe. | But to tell me that butterfly's eggs are caterpillars and that caterpillars leave off crawling and get wings, and become butterflies!-Lark! you are too wise to believe such nonsense your self, for you know it is impossible." "I know no such thing," said the lark warmly. "Whether I hover over the cornfields of earth, or go up into the depth of the sky, I see so many wonderful things, I know possible." "Nonsense!" shouted the caterpillar, "I know what's possible and what's not possible, according to my experience and capacity, as well as you do. Look at my long green body, and these endless legs, and then talk to me about having wings and a painted feathery coat! Fool!"— "And fool you! you would-be wise caterpillar," cried the indignant lark. “Fool, to attempt to reason about what you cannot understand. Do you not hear how my song swells with rejoicing as I soar upwards to the mysterous wonder-world above? O caterpillar! what comes to you from thence receive, as I do, upon trust." "That is what you call"- "How am I to learn faith?" asked the caterpillar. At that moment she felt something at her side. She looked around-eight or ten little green caterpillars were moving about, and had already made a show of a hole in the cabbage leaf. They had broken from the butterfly's eggs! Shame and amazement filled our green friend's heart, but joy soon followed; for, as the first wonder was possible, the second might be so too, "Teach me your lesson, lark!" she would say; and the lark sung to her of the wonders of the earth below, and of the heaven above. And the caterpillar talked all the rest of her life to her relations of the time when she should be a butterfly. But none of them believed her. She nevertheless had learned the lark's lesson of faith, and when she was going into her chrysalis grave she said, "I shall be a butterfly some day." But her relations thought her head was wandering, and they said, "Poor thing!" And when she was a butterfly, and was going to die again, she said, "I have known many wonders-I have faith-I can trust even now for what shall come next!"-Scottish Ecclesiastical Journal. The heart has its voice and language. 66 JAMES, A GOOD EXCUSE. AMES, you must go to bed early tonight," said Mrs. Martin, "the horses have not returned you know, and we shall be obliged to walk to church to-morrow. So you must go to bed and get restored thoroughly." Thus admonished, James retired at an early hour. He was not pleased with the prospect of walking to church. The weather was warm, the road dusty, and the distance over two miles. He lay awake for some time trying to think of some good excuse for staying at home on the morrow. Might he not have a headache? It was certainly possible, but not probable. The temptation to a falsehood was very slight: for James was a boy of truth. He must have a good excuse or none, and no good excuse was forthcoming. So he composed himself to slumber, forgetting in his anxiety about the morrow to say his customary prayer. James awoke pretty early in the morning, and saw the rain drops standing on the window panes. He looked again, and was satisfied that it was raining. He rose and looked at the vane which was on the barn, and saw that the wind was in the right direction for a rainy day. He returned to his bed in a very complacent state of mind. He was glad that it rained. Not that a rainy day was a thing in itself pleasant to him. So far from it, if it came on a week-day, and especially on a holiday, it was apt to put his face in "a bad shape." When James left his chamber and joined the family who were assembled for prayer, he put on a look of regret, and said, "There will be no going to meeting to-day." After breakfast, he went frequently to the door to see, as he said, whether there was any prospect of fair weather. Nine o'clock came, and no sign of a clear sky. James then apparently gave it up in despair. He took his Bible and sat down, and fixed his eyes on the leaves, but his thoughts were on the themes which had but little connection with those pages. After awhile his mother observed him, and said, "James, you do not appear to be reading.,' "Were you thinking about what you have been reading?" "Yes, ma'am-no, ma'am, not just that minute." By the tone and manner he designed to make the impression that he had been thinking about what he had read, though just at that moment his thoughts had wandered to another subject. He now turned his eye upon the open page, and the first sentence which met his eye was this-"Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy." The word hypocrisy struck his mind with great force. He stopped reading, but kept his eye fixed on the word hypocrisy. If he did not think on what he read, yet what he had read gave direction to his thoughts. It occurred to him that he had been playing the hypocrite from the time that he left his chamber that morning. He had pretended that he was sorry that it rained, when in reality he was glad. He had pretended that he was anxious to go to meeting, while in reality he was afraid the rain might cease in time for him to go. He had pretended he had been reading the Bible, and had been thinking on what he had read, when such was not the fact. He saw that he had been a hypocrite, and in relation to subjects connected with serious and religious things. His heart smote him: he began to feel the pains of a guilty conscience. His countenance gave some indication of his pain. His mother observed it, and asked him what was the matter. "Nothing," said he, "only I don't feel very well," and he arose and went to his chamber. He was soon followed by his anxious mother, who found him sitting with his face buried in his hands. "Are you sick, James? Where do you feel bad?" "Here," said James, laying his hand on his heart, and bursting into tears. His mother sat down by his side, took his hand in hers, and affectionately bade him tell her his troubles. After he became somewhat calm, he made a full confession of all his sins of hypocrisy which he had that day committed, and asked her to pray to God to forgive "I was not reading just then, I was think- him. ing." Perhaps the reader may have been guilty of similar acts of hypocrisy If so, has he re- | God. The hypocrisy of the heart which may pented of them, and entreated God to forgive show itself by the most insignificant act is as him? Hypocrisy is an odious sin in the sight clearly known by him, as is the most deliberof God. It is a sin perfectly known to him. ately planned system of deception. Beware You can deceive men, but you cannot deceive of hypocrisy.-N. Y. Observer. Church Intelligence. The temporary disturbance of the otherwise smooth current of Synodical affairs in the State of Maryland, suggests the propriety of furnishing some little information upon Synodical relations in general. The Synod of Maryland, according to the provisions of its constitution covers the whole state. A year or more ago, some few of its members applied to the Synod whilst in session, for authority to organize another body, to be called the Melancthon Synod. Atter some delay and opposition the requisite authority was granted. After the lapse of a year however, the sober second thought of the original Synod of Maryland prevailed. The brethren discovered, that by contributing in any degree towards the erection of a new Synod within the limits of the state, they had arrayed themselves in direct conflict with their charter. They have now wisely concluded, if possible to retrace their steps, and so have called a conference of the two Synods in the city of Frederick, on the third Monday of November. The amicable adjustment of this question among themselves, one way or the other, will be hailed with joy, especially by all who expect to be present at the meeting of the General Synod in the year 1859. Lutheran spirit, its efforts and influence are annually increasing in the cause of missions and of education. About the year 1823 the Synod of West Pennsylvania was organized, and claimed as its field, all that portion of the state which lies West of the Susquehanna. Still one in spirit, upon the whole the mother and the daughter could live and labor harmoniously for years together, and until 1842, there was nothing occurring, either in the East or in the West, to disturb their peace or to divide their forces. In the year 1842 the Synod of East Pennsylvania was organized. Its field of operations is exactly that which has always been occupied by the original Synod itself; and this fact would intimate, that this new movement must have been in direct opposition to the advice and expressed will of the Synod of Pennsylvania. Such was indeed the case. But a few years were sufficient to smooth down the asperities, and now far a long time the two bodies have been co-operating with as good understanding and as much harmony as the circumstances of the case render possible. This Synod of East Pennsylvania it is said, "is composed of young men-none The Synods of Pennsylvania, we had al- passed the meridian of life," but they are not most said, their name is Legion! But al- likely to be betrayed into any of the extravathough they are so many, yet they all have a gences of youth-they may be young, but good spirit, each one is zealously performing they are active, intelligent, devoted to their its own work in its own way. First and fore-church, eloquent and as a body zealous to an most in point of numbers as well as time, exemplary degree in good works. comes the "Mother of Synods" the Synod of Pennsylvania, now in the one hundred and sixteenth year of its activity. Until about the year 1823 it covered the whole state of Pennsylvania, and indeed extended its ministry all over the far West. Since that time however, though professedly confined to that portion of the state which lies East of the Susquehanna it still retains its ancient title, the Synod of Pennsylvania and adjacent states. Its prevailing character is German, with a very decided and increasing English element; and with a very faithful conformity to the We pass now to the West of the Susquehanna, the portion of the state occupied, from the time of its formation, by the Synod of West Pennsylvania. "Time passes and much change doth bring." Behold here four Synods, all in full operation, three of them claiming a very considerable extent of territory, and narrowing down the once strong and influential Synod of West Pennsylvania to the contracted portion of about four contiguous counties. These three are the Pittsburg Synod occupying the Western counties of the statethe Allegheny Synod upon and near our loftiest |