chosen; after which I joined him in his favorite hymn, which was one of Dr. Watts's Divine Songs, beginning with these words: There is beyond the sky

A heaven of joy and love,

And holy children when they die

Go to that world above.

The portion of Scripture which he chose was this-Revelation vii. 17.-" And the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them to living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."—And he pointed out to me who this Lamb of God is, and proceeded to endeavour to make me understand what we owe to this Lamb of God. Shewing me our lost estate by nature; unfolding, at the same time, others of the most important truths of our holy religion. We then knelt down together, whilst he prayed that we might both be made to follow the Lamb whithersoever he went. After which we rose from our knees, and he said, looking sweetly in my face," Will you come again to-morrow, Rosa?"-" Will you come, dear Rosa?"-Could I have said I would not, could I have even wished to have staid away, when thus invited, yet, as I before said, I had no religion in my heart.

The season favoured us, and for many days, till the holidays were nearly expired, we met every afternoon, at the root-house. Neither did my beloved Adolphus fail in preparing me a little treat each day. I mean such a treat as I could then enjoy; sometimes his dishes were composed of cockle shells, and his treat of strawberries and cream; sometimes his table was covered with little baskets of rushes, filled with gooseberries and currants, and again the rind of the gourd supplied his dishes. He seemed to take a particular delight in varying my entertainment, and shewing his innocent ingenuity in supplying new ornaments for his feast; thus he kept up my interest in my daily visits to the root-house, whilst yet that better principle was wanting which should have made me delight in these seasons, though neither delicious fruit nor fragrant flowers had been there prepared to regale my senses.

During this period, however, I acquired many ideas respecting true religion, which although they remained inactive for a time, were as seeds sown in my heart, which awaited only the divine

influences of the Holy Spirit to strike their roots downwards, and to spring forth upwards in buds and blossoms, and rich promise of future fruit.

At length, however, my brother's holidays were within one week of their termination. We had met, as usual, in our beloved root-house, and I had partaken of the entertainment my sweet Adolphus had provided for me, after which taking his Bible from the hollow tree, 66 My dear Rosa," he said, “the time of my going back to school is very near, and the autumn will soon come, and then the leaves will fall, and the nipping frosts will visit this place, but we will hope to come here the next summer, and spend many happy hours together again in this place, and you will not forget, my Rosa, all I have endeavoured to teach you. I am young, like you, I know, and ignorant also, but God has made me understand what I did not know some months past, that is, that my soul is of infinitely more consequence than my perishing body; neither did I then comprehend any thing of the wonderful work of our salvation, and how it has been brought to pass by our heavenly Father. I shall shew you, my dear Rosa, the passage in the Bible which first made me think of these things, and the first hymn that I ever really delighted in. I have kept these till now, because I thought that just at first, that is when we first came here, you would not understand these things so well as you now do; and I do hope, my beloved sister, that you will be as much pleased at the sweet chapter I am going to read as I was." So saying, he opened his Bible, his lovely face all bright and ́ glowing with delight, and he was just beginning to read, when we heard my father's voice, repeating my name, from the other side of the dingle.

Rosa, Rosa, resounded across the water, and an echo, which haunted the upper regions of the winding valley, returned the name at several repetitions, each repetition becoming more indistinct than the former, and, at the same moment, my sweet brother putting a violet leaf in the place of the Bible, which was open before him, deposited the sacred volume in the hollow tree, and arose, with a disappointed air, to follow me to the house.

To be continued.

CONSCIENCE AND MEMORY.

IN contemplating the various agents that are so busily at work in these minds of ours, I have often been struck with the close union that subsists between Conscience and Memory. Never was there a pair more indissolubly connected, or more faithfully attached. Conscience, as the sterner of the two, may be placed at the head: but whatever he examines, deliberates on, or determines, the result is duly imparted to his gentle associate. Every wound or even slight that is put upon him, she resents with indignation, and sooner or later avenges. She gives herself up entirely to his disposal, weeps over his burdens, smiles only in his happiness or relief. Then indeed, she will sit and sing her sweetest songs; or display the soft, fair pictures which her hand has traced, till hours seem moments in her blest society, and her very breath pours peace upon the soul. But many regard not her connection with Conscience; and treating him with contempt, nevertheless seek admittance to her sacred joys, and boast themselves acquainted with the lovely charmer. Alas! they are listening to the strain of a syren: how would those pictured delights, which they behold with such fond admiration, bear one examination by the daybeam of truth. In the night of ignorance, by the lamp of delusion, alone can they be exhibited; and yet in a little while, that lamp shall be extinguished, and leave its wretched victim to the blackness of darkness for ever.

Would you then, my readers, make Memory your friend; do you believe, that as you pass through life, it will be pleasant sometimes to retire with her, to the scenes of former enjoyment, remember that to no scene, in which Conscience has not smiled upon you, will she ever lead you back, with true satisfaction. She receives his testimony, and blesses the spot where he was honored; there you may enjoy her choicest pleasures, and her brightest smiles. But wo to those, who revisit with her, the place where they have injured him. "Conscience was wounded bere;" she sternly cries, and, cited by her potent voice, a thousand scorpion-stings dart into the soul that pierced him.

I was led into this train of thought, while reflecting, after my return to a peaceful home, upon some months spent in the society of various friends. Examining, by the assistance of

memory, my temper and conduct during the year that has now closed, it so happened that I fell asleep,-for having passed a day of travelling fatigue, added to the excitement of meeting again my beloved family, I felt more than usually exhausted. Most of my readers have no doubt experienced the transition from thinking to dreaming; the first incongruous mixture of realities with images; the resumption for a inoment, of the broken thread of meditation; till at length, the mental powers, having abandoned their office, leave fancy free to work her own devices. So it was on the present occasion. I went through all these several gradations; till finding my mind wholly in her power, the enchantress pursued my previous reflections, and presented me with the following vision.

Methought I was standing alone, on a quiet though somewhat elevated spot, where a widely extended landscape spread behind and before me. The latter was covered with so thick a mist, that with my utmost endeavors, I could scarcely distinguish any object. In the former, however, all seemed clear and distinct, presenting moreover a pleasant variety, of light and shade, of hill and dale, of field and flood. Not that it appeared a region, unvisited by fear or danger. Many a sharp rock thrust its head to the clouds, and presented but a steep and slippery path, to the foot of the traveller; many a barren waste lay marked by desolation; here, an overwhelming torrent was seen threatening destruction; there, some gloomy recess awakened thoughts of horror. As I stood gazing, there was an undefined impression on my mind, which made me little disposed to traverse the country I have described; feeling a much stronger desire to penetrate the mist that hung over the opposite side. At this moment, I fancied that I discerned in the distance, the dim shadow of a youthful form, beckoning me to follow her, into the unknown region. Anxious to explore it, I was preparing to obey, when my progress was arrested, by the near approach of a lovely and majestic figure, whose matured countenance bespoke tenderness and wisdom, and united with a degree of pensiveness, the gentle expression of peace. Still there was a latent severity in her eye, which awakened in me the feeling of indescribable awe. I shrank from her penetrating glance, and trembled as she thus addressed me:

Turn not away so hastily, my child, to follow what to thee may only prove a phantom. I come at thine own desire to trace with thee the scenes of former days. In the country behind thee, behold the year at whose utmost verge thou hast arrived; in that before thee, so involved in mist, the year on which thou art about to enter. Thou standest between the two, on the hill of contemplation,-a spot which has ever been my favorite haunt. Give me thine hand, and let us retrace thy recent journey, nor fear a loss, in time so occupied. Amidst these shades Experience loves to dwell; I will discover her retreat, engage her on thy side, and thou, assisted by her friendly guidance, shalt more safely enter on the scene before thee.

I would willingly have declined her offer, but felt that I had no excuse; my judgment was convinced that she designed my good. Is it Memory, I enquired, whose presence thus befriends me?

Even so;

the friend and consort of Conscience. This designation of her name, did not diminish my awe; nevertheless, yielding to her guidance, I addressed myself to the task assigned me. In an instant, she transported me to the very spot, at which I had first entered the tract now passed over. Beside it stood a young female, surrounded by a host of tiny elves, which she fondled continually, and called them her dear children.

Dost thou recognize that form, asked Memory: it is the same that beckoned thee anon, and will beckon thee, in every succeeding change. Her name is Anticipation; and all those little creatures are called Good Resolutions. Thou rememberest, without doubt, her committal of them to thy care. What hast thou done with them all by this time?

The deep blush of conscious unfaithfulness suffused my cheek. A few of them, I replied, I have fostered and cherished; and the pleasure they have yielded me, has been an ample reward: but many, alas, I have forgotten; and some, that were troublesome, by unkind treatment, I have destroyed.

I have heard as much from Conscience: these tender nurslings were dear to him; and in their neglect and destruction he felt a bitter pang, Mourn and blush, as well thou mayest, yet