against and weep over, much, very much, of remaining sin to sorrow for and forsake. But she had consecrated herself in true repentance and undoubted sincerity to her Saviour, and deep in her awakened heart lay a strong desire and an earnest purpose to be like Christ, to possess his spirit, and share his love and blessing.

3

This purpose, as we have seen, had already begun to show itself in her life, though only by a glance. It was a feeling which God had implanted in her heart, and which she did not resist, that was now ripening into a holy purpose to do his will, and already beginning to put forth tender shoots of love and grace—a feeling, an impulse, which all of you, my dear little readers, have had at times, but which you have resisted, or at least slighted. Have you never been conscious of a feeling of dissatis

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faction with yourself?-a wish that you were better? Every such wish, however faint, after goodness and God, is from him, and is meant to lead you to him. It is his Spirit whispering, “ Come.” Oh, follow that Divine call. Though it seem far off, and almost inaudible, turn not from it, for it is the voice of God, and it will certainly lead to him, if you cherish it, and follow after it. Believe me, my dear children, God is nearer to you than you think. He even waits to be gracious. Will you not open your hearts to this kind Friend, and from this time cry unto him, "My Father, thou art the Guide of my youth?"

.

One bright Saturday afternoon, Mary Ives and Rose went out for a long ramble. Each took a little basket, for the wintergreen was just putting out its tender leaves, and they were quite sure of a

large supply in the first piece of woods beyond farmer May's clearing—an old farmer, who lived about a mile distant. It was a beautiful day, and the children were in fine spirits. The air was balmy with the breath of early violets, and sweet with bird-songs, while over all smiled the beautiful blue sky.

"Mary," said Rose, as they walked together, hand in hand, twirling their light baskets, "what makes me love every body now-a-days? I feel as though I could hug Jane Anson, or the little lame boy at the corner, that makes such faces at me every time I pass. Is it. because we are having such splendid weather? Just see what a lovely blue the sky is; and smell the air-how fragrant and soft it is! We never had so beautiful a spring before."

Mary laughed - her gentle, musical laugh.

"Why, Rose, what sort of a day was it yesterday? You know you was vexed with brother Frank, because he teazed you about the blunder that you made in the grammar class; and yet it was as fine a day as this, and we were out in the sunshine, just as we are now."

quire that rule

Rose blushed, and dropped her head, for, although as a disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus, she had begun to acthat rule over her own over her own spirit, which is better than the taking of a city, there were times when her old habits of petulance and impatience proved too strong for her; and this had been one instance of the kind. Her vexation on the occasion had been of short duration, however, and her cousin had noticed the struggle, and rejoiced in its happy result.

"Don't look so troubled, Rose," she