justly offended his God, he will rather cling to him, though angry, than endeavour to fly from him. Dreadful is the state of that creature, who, like Cain, would desire to fly from the presence of his God."

Our mother did not answer; but little Sally and I both knelt at our father's feet, and begged for our brother; and Robert knelt too, in his corner, for he did not dare to come near to us; and after a little while, our dear papa granted our petition, and pardoned his little boy. But the events of that day were ever fixed upon our minds, and the lesson which they were calculated to convey was never forgotten by us, namely, that if little children are most safe and happy in the presence of their parents, so persons in advanced life should ever seek to be present in spirit with their heavenly Father, and to make this their perpetual prayer, (Psalm li. 11.) Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me.

THE MOUNTAIN ASH.

PREFACE.

THE Mountain Ash is a true story, and shews how the father of Marten and Mary was enabled, in one respect, to be a faithful type of the Father of all men : "for the Lord is good, his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endureth for ever," Psalm c. 5. When we look into the Bible we may find numbers of the most

beautiful promises given to those who are brought to love the blessed Saviour; these promises will not be accomplished in their full extent in our present state of being, but they will be fulfilled to those who are made to receive them, when our blessed Saviour returns in glory.

That which the tender father promised and gave to Marten, viz. the bough of Mountain Ash with its coral berries, has long faded and perished; and the hand of that beloved parent who gave the bough to Marten has lain cold in the grave for forty years; “for all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass; the grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away, but the word of the Lord endureth for ever,” 1 Peter i. 24, 25.

In a certain county of England, whose name I do not choose to tell, there is a valley which has not its superior throughout the world. There are banks which in spring are covered with violets, and woods where cuckoos sing, and little grey squirrels frisk in deep shades, and waterfalls glisten and sparkle in solitary glens, and cowslips fill the air with their sweet smell, and lofty hills shut out all the rest of the world, seeming, as it were, to lift up their own proud heads as high as the region of the clouds. There is a river also, which runs along the bottom of that valley, which often hides its stream behind rows of silver willows, and again comes out to view among meadows

filled with cattle, and sprinkled by daisies, buttercups, and marsh-marigolds, with their large bright flowers and polished leaves.

Marten and Mary lived in that valley when they were little children. Their papa's house stood under a wood; there was a green lawn before it, and a beautiful shadowy dell on the left hand of it. If you would like to see the picture of this house, there it is in our first page.

I have seen Marten and Mary's papa and mamma; it is more than fifty years since I first saw them: if they were alive now, they would be very old; but they are now in heaven. I know that they are in heaven, because they trusted in the Lord Jesus Christ, and no one who ever trusted in him is cast out of heaven, for it is written, John vi. 37. him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.

These good parents brought up their children to obey them in every thing, although they denied them nothing that was really for their good. I know Marten and Mary very well, and I hear them often speak of their happy early days, and of their dear father and mother who are now in heaven.

Marten has many pleasant stories to tell of those days; and the last time I saw him, he told me a story which I put down on paper, thinking that you would have great delight in knowing what it is.

When Marten was five years and a half old, and Mary one year younger, their dear papa and mamma invited them to walk out with them one fine evening in the autumn. The trees had not yet dropped their leaves, and the birds had not yet finished their summer song, and the little squirrels and dormice had not yet shut themselves up in their holes for the winter ; so the woods were still very pleasant and gay; and, I dare say, that Marten and Mary were very happy when they were told that they were to take a long walk.