them that were about me; and I say in my heart, O! happy days of childhood, how blessed is your memory!

My little children, those golden days are now yours, and your path is a path of flowers, and your sky is a sky of light. Oh! while yet the cares of life, and the sins of the world have not cast their dark shadows across your way, give your hearts to Him who made the sun to shine, and the flowers to grow; who spread the mighty waters, and raised the lofty hills; for in him you live, and move, and have your being: every good and perfect gift cometh from his hand; and there is not a blessing you enjoy of which he is not the author. Oh! then, give these

best moments of your life to Him, who is alone worthy of the heart's best service.

THE SABBATH.

IT is the Sabbath: what a sweet name Sabbath is it is just like the day-all rest and peace. When I was a child I used to love the Sabbath, and it seemed to me like a moment of heaven. The people went in vast numbers to the house of God in company, and joined in singing his praises. The merry laugh of the children at play was not heard in the streets, for the quiet of the Sabbath was there; the voice of the streamlet was heard in softer murmurs; and the songs of the birds sounded sweeter in the groves;

and the gentle breeze as it passed over the flowers, in the lanes and fields, seemed like a whisper of peace sent down from the land of the blessed. On those divine days I used to feel so clean and quiet, and my heart felt better, and my spirit more pure; and I used to go with my father and mother, and sisters, to the house of God, to hear of his great love to us, and to learn to love him more. I did indeed love the Sabbath; I was always glad when it came, and always sorry when it

went.

THE DYING CHILD.

THE sable shades of night closed in upon the earth, and the sky was dark and starless; and the lamp burnt dimly and faintly in a chamber where a little child was dying. His clasped hands rested on his bosom, and his little lips moved in still prayer. The long night passed away, and the golden beams of morning burst in at the casement and rested on the pillow of the dying child; and when he beheld the sudden burst of light, he thought in the pureness of his heart, that the gates of heaven were thrown wide open to receive him, and he said, "Now, dearest mother, I may go, for heaven's