face in the blanket, and refuse to answer any question that was put to him about the state of his soul. And in this unhappy

state of mind he died.

What little child that reads these two stories does not say "I should like to die like Aramoosy's boy?" and so you may if you will do as he did. He listened to his teachers, he loved his Bible, and often read it; and though most of his old companions were bad, and lying, and thieving children, he began to pray to the one true God to give him a new heart, and wash away his sins in Jesus' blood, and his prayer was heard.

Go, my dear child, and thus pray. Ask God to make you his own dear child, and give you a soft and tender heart; and you will be a happy child now, and when you die a shining saint.

B.

NO PAY-NO WORK.

"LITTLE boy, will you help a poor old man up the hill with his load?"

These words were spoken by an old gray-headed man, who was drawing a handcart which contained a bag of corn for the mill.

"I can't, I'm in a hurry," said Hanson, the boy addressed.

He was in a hurry to get to the schoolhouse, that he might enjoy a few minutes' play with the boys before school began.

The old man sat down on a stone at the foot of the hill to rest himself, and gather strength for the ascent. He gazed after Hanson as he passed rapidly on, and sighed as he thought of the days of his youth, now so far off in the distance, and of the friends of his youth now in the grave. A tear was beginning to gather in his eye, when John Wilson came along and said, "Shall I help you. up the hill with your load, sir?"

The old man brushed his eyes with the cuff of his coat, and replied, "I shall be glad to have you, I have the rheumatism in my right arm so badly that it is of no use to me, and my left arm was never very strong."

He arose, and taking the tongue of his cart, while John pushed behind, they

ascended as rapidly as his faltering steps would permit. When they reached the top of the hill they discovered a rent in the bag on the underside, from which the corn was escaping. With great effort, and at considerable expense of time, the bag was turned, so that there was no further loss of corn.

"I'm much obliged to you,” said the old man, as John set off in a run for the school-house," and may the Lord reward you." This last expression was not heard by John.

When John reached the school-house he was about ten minutes too late, and in consequence received a mark for want of punctuality. This was a very unusual thing for him, as he was remarkable for punctuality and promptness. If he had told the teacher the cause of his detention, he would have been excused; but he thought it would look a little like ostentation to do so.

At noon, Hanson said to John, " What did you get a mark for ?"

"Because I wasn't here when school began," said John,

"I know that; but why wasn't you here in time? You were only a little way behind me at the foot of the hill."

"I know it."

"I suppose you stopped to help old Stevenson up the hill with his grist. He

tried to stop me, but I don't work for nothing."

"Nor I either."

"I know you don't; you got a mark for your job this morning, that's all that you got." "You don't know that."

"Did you get anything else?"

"I didn't do it expecting to get anything for it."

"What did you do it for, then?"

"Because I thought I ought to help the poor old man."

"It is the business of his relations to help bim."

"It is everybody's business to help everybody who needs help."

"If you have a mind to be such a fool as to work for nothing, you may. No payno work, is my motto."

To be kind and tender-hearted, is my motto, John might have said with truth, but he did not say so. John did not think he worked for nothing when he performed acts of kindness. In the first place, he had the approbation of his conscience, and he regarded that as worth something. In the second place, he had the pleasure of doing good, and regarded that as worth something. And in the third place, he had the gratitude and love of many, and he regarded that as worth something. And finally, he had the divine promise of a reward for even so small an act of benevolence as giving a cup of cold water to a

1

disciple, and that he regarded as worth a great deal.

Did he work for nothing? Does anybody work for nothing when he does good?

ANECDOTE OF A LITTLE GIRL.

DEAR CHILDREN, I think you would all have enjoyed spending an hour or two, as I did, one afternoon last June, in the boat-house at S., on the Sussex coast. The weather was fine, a gentle breeze rippled the blue waters of the bay, and all was pleasant around and within the rude shed, which was nicely curtained with flags, &c. Several Christian friends and some of the families at the station were assembled there, through the kindness of the officer in command, (who presided on the oc->. casion,) to hear from a few pious clergymen information and words of advice and encou ragement respecting missions to the heathen. Among various interesting facts detailed by these good men, I was particularly pleased with an anecdote that the Rev. Mr. P. related to us of a little girl, whom he had known when curate in the county town of H. She had been → a regular attendant at the Sunday-school for some time; but, like many others who possess the privilege of religious instruction, she had profited but little by it.

As there were supporters of the Missionary cause in H., meetings in its behalf were every > now and then held there. At one of these, at