"Can you explain this?” asked Mr. Dupont of Victoire.

"Of course," answered she, with a countenance full of wickedness. 'Your daughter-yes, Miss Emilystole them, and gave them to me to keep them for her." 'Hold your tongue, wretched girl," exclaimed Mr. Dupont, how dare you utter such things against my daughter?"

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Well, sir," said Victoire, audaciously, "do not treat me as a liar; go, rather, to Miss Emily's room, and you will find there a dozen empty pots, which she has stolen from you when they were full of preserves; also some things from the pawnbroker's, which she received for the silver that is not here, and a necklace she has bought with the money he lent her."

Alas! the pots and things named by Victoire were really found in Emily's room, and she could not deny having eaten the jam. The necklaces, &c., were also found, and a ticket from the pawnbroker's.

You can easily guess who put them in her drawer. But one of the greatest punishments that attends a liar is, not to be believed, even when she tells the truth. So it was with Emily. In vain did she cry, and protest her innocence, even when she was accused of stealing the silver. It was clear that she had been a thief and a liar, and no one, not even her father, would believe her; but they looked on her with horror and disgust.

At length she resolved upon making a full confession to her father. She told him her first temptation and dishonesty, and how, in her fear to confess, she had been led, from step to step, to commit such actions, and at last was plunged into her present state of misery. A child cannot conceive what her father felt, when he saw his loved child become (in

spite of all their prayers and instructions) a miserable and contemptible thief and a liar.

Emily was not an insensible or hard-hearted child. Her father's prayers, conversations, and the passages he read to her from God's Word, were not without

effect, but seemed to humble her in the sight of that God whom she had so greatly offended, and to lead her to ask Him to change her heart.

Victoire, having been tried, was committed to prison. Before the judge she showed her usual audacity, and persisted in saying that it was Emily

who had stolen the lost goods, and that the necklace and other things were what she had received for her. It is not easy to maintain long a lie before a court; nor could Victoire, for the assertions of different witnesses proved that Emily was innocent regarding what Victoire had said.

But the heaviest trial was yet in store. It was impossible to disclose all to Mrs. Dupont, who saw that something more than usual was taking place respecting the family, and had asked several questions about it, but which were always evaded. But it must be told, and Mr. Dupont at last did so, trying to make Emily's fault as small as possible; but all his persuasions were in vain, the blow was striking the dying dead; and before a fortnight was passed away, Emily followed the remains of her excellent mother to their last resting-place, for whom she felt she could then have given her life, and yet whom she felt she bad killed.

Several years have passed since Emily's first temptation to dishonesty. and many bitter tears has she shed over that fatal day, and its consequences.

She herself wished this history to be written, as a warning to avoid the first steps to sin.

If she had not stolen little things, most likely she would not have been led on to such dishonesty. It is not said, "Thou shalt not steal 'great things,'" but simply, "Thou shalt not steal."

May this history be a warning to those who have taken a first step in dishonesty, and make them feel their danger; and may they be led to confess and forsake their sin,

Translated by L. G.

THE FAITHFUL DOG AND HIS GRATEFUL MASTER.

As we were sitting at supper, in came a large dog that seemed a great favourite with all the family, and was particularly caressed by a little boy at the bottom of the table. I asked the child whether it was his own dog, which led the shepherd to tell the foilowing extraordinary story :-"To that dog, gentlemen,' said he, "I owe the life of my child, and I never refuse him a bone from my table. It happened one day, as I was overlooking my pastures, when the boy was only three years old, that I took him with me, accompanied only by this faithful creature. Having occasion to clamber to the top of a high cliff at some distance, in order to see that my flocks kept within their proper bounds, I left the child on a small plain at the bottom, strictly ordering him not to stir till I returned; scarcely had I reached the summit, before a sudden mist arose, such as is frequent among these mountains, and darkened the sky, so that I could with difficulty descend. Anxious for my child's safety, I returned as fast as I could, but, unfortunately took a wrong path, and, after searching unsuccessfully for many hours amongst the dangerous morasses and cataracts of the mountains, night overtook me, and I continued wandering about till a gleam of the moon, shining on my own cottage window, convinced me Í was just at home. To describe what I felt at returning to my wife without my child is impossible. I had also lost my dog, the faithful companion of years. The next morning by daybreak, several of my neighbours set out with me in search of my lost little one-all our attempts were in vain. Tired and disappointed, we again returned at the approach of night, and renewed our search with the same

ill success for many following days. The day after the accident happened the dog found his way home, and, after receiving his usual portion of food, instantly went away, and appeared no more that night. The same circumstance happened, every day; till, at last, I was determined to follow him, and discover the cause of this strange behaviour. He led the way to a cataract at some distance from the spot where I had left my boy. The banks of this cataract were nearly joined at the top, yet separated by an abyss of an immense depth. Down one of these rugged and almost perpendicular descents the dog began to make his way, with the provisions in his mouth, till I lost sight of him in a cave, the entrance of which was nearly on a level with the torrent. With extreme difficulty I followed his steps; but how can I express my delight and suprise when I reached the opening of the cave, there sat my boy munching the cake that the dog had brought him, and the faithful creature, standing at his side, guarding him with the watchful eye of a friend. From the situation of the place, the child must have fallen or scrambled down till he reached the cave, and the sagacity of this valuable creature saved him from starving. Not a King's ransom should purchase him, nor shall be ever want a meal whilst I have one for myself." When he ended his account the dog received the praises and caresses of the whole company.

INTEMPERANCE is defined, excess in meats, or drinks, or passions. A man may have an intemperate spirit, or give way to intemperate practices.

WHEN we are alone, we have our thoughts to watch; in the family, our tempers; in company, our tongues.-Mrs. H. More.