sir, me?" Or, when you hear or read about God's own children, whom he has converted and turned from sin, and whom the Good Shepherd is leading into his heavenly fold, can you say, "I am one?" "Jesus is leading and saving me." How sad it is, that children, and grownup people too, when they hear these things, are all the time thinking about other people, and forget themselves; and therefore they get no good by what they hear. Learn then to be saying, in your heart, "I am one;"" Please, sir, me;" as this little boy and girl did: and then, with God's grace, self-application will prove a blessing to your souls.

PREPARE!

THE rosebud yet unblown may lie
Wither'd across the way;
The lamb amidst the flock may die,
The grave unthought of may be nigh
To children young as they.

Oh let not one short day be past
Without a pardon sought;
Many a day has proved the last,
And suddenly their lot been cast
Who little fear'd or thought.

Now, Saviour, bless me: then, whene'er
My life or death may be,

There shall be left no cause for fear
For, if removed from living here,
A heaven remains for me.

;

J. EDMESTON.

LITTLE Ellen lost her mamma by death when she was eight years old, but until then she was a very happy child. Her kind mamma had taught her to read, and to repeat several verses out of the Bible; and told her many pretty stories. Ellen also had a nice little garden of her own, where there were several flowers growing which she had planted herself. She knew how to weed them, and in dry weather she watered them every evening with a small green watering-pot that her papa had bought for her, and which Robin the gardener filled for her at the pond. But there was nothing in which she delighted so much as in a little white kitten of which she had made a pet, and named

Beauty. When she walked about the shrubbery or the lawn, Beauty followed her; and one time that Ellen was sick for a few days the cat found her out, and could not be kept off the bed to which she was confined, but lay on her feet day and night. Ellen would sometimes neglect even her pretty garden to play with puss she used to say, "My flowers cannot love me. Her mamma made a little poem about her white kitten, which amused Ellen very much; it was this:

I like to lay aside my books,
And in the garden play,
When everything about me looks
So pretty and so gay.

I like to watch how fast the seeds
Spring up when there are showers,

And then I pull the ugly weeds
That would destroy my flowers.

And oh how nice it is to get
A rose on my own tree,
And lupin, and sweet mignionette,
That all were reared by me.

But it is pleasanter than that
Along the walk to run,

And with my pretty snow-white cat

To have a game of fun.

To see her wag her tail, and spring

At every passing fly;

And sometimes climb the tree, and cling

To branches waving high.

"Come down, come down, my pussy dear,

I'll give you sweet new milk;

You'll hurt your tender paws, you'll tear
Your coat as soft as silk,"

Then down with many a frisking stir

She jumps, and runs to me;

And when I stroke her glossy fur

She purrs aloud with glee.

I would not give my cat for all
The flowers that ever grew;
They cannot answer when I call,
They cannot love me too.

After her mamma's death little Ellen became fonder than ever of her cat, having no other companion or play-fellow. Although her papa loved her very much she saw but little of him, as he was from home all day, and by the time he returned and had dined, in the evening, it was her hour for going to bed. Her nurse, who took care of her, was kind, so far as seeing that she wanted for nothing; but Ellen missed the fond affection of her dear mamma; to whom she used to go when she was in any trouble. She fancied now that nothing loved her except the cat, and she often talked to Beauty, telling her all she felt-how cross the writing-master was and how nurse would not let her wear her new bonnet,-just as if Beauty understood her. I am sorry to say that Ellen now did not read her Bible: she fancied it would be of no use as she had no one to explain it for her; but she forgot a verse which she had once been taught concerning the truths of Scripture"Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes," by which she might have known that, young as she was, God, by his Holy Spirit, could make her understand his word.

Ellen began to grow very bold: she would sometimes get into violent passions; and no wonder, when she neglected that Book in which we are commanded to practise meekness. On one very sad occasion she was even so wicked as to tell a lie; it was not found out, but still

she felt uneasy; and when she went to bed, a text which her dear mamma had taught her came into her mind. It was this: "All liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth Iwith fire and brimstone." No wonder that Ellen could not sleep when she thought of these fearful words; she stayed awake for a long time, and when she got up in the morning was very unhappy. She longed to tell some one how wicked she had been, but her papa had gone from home, and nurse would only scold her. Like many other foolish people, Ellen then determined to drive away the remembrance of her sin by amusement. I will play with my darling Beauty," said she, "until it is time to get my lessons." But Beauty was no where to be found. In vain did her little mistress search for her all over the house, in the garden, and the shrubbery. In vain did she call "Beauty, Beauty," holding a saucer of milk in her hand as a lure to tempt the wanderer back. Beauty did not return, and poor Ellen was more miserable than before. Her grief was so great that the servants pitied her, and hunted everywhere for the lost pet while there was any hope of finding her; but towards evening, when the groom was airing the horses about a mile from the house, he was told that some boys had been seen there worrying a white cat which they had killed, and the person who told him said he saw it lying dead in a field. The groom went to the place, but not even the dead body of poor Beauty could be found.

Many were the tears shed by little Ellen when she learned the sad account of her favourite. In vain did her nurse, or her papa on his