you so often tell me of, should be angry with me. You say he knows and sees every thing. What shall I do that he may forgive me?" "My child," said the mother, "God is ever ready to forgive those who believe in Christ, who are truly sorry for their faults, and who resolve to amend. We cannot hide any thing from him. He knows when we do wrong, and when we desire to do what is right. He hears our prayers, and he will teach us what we should do. Fray to him to forgive your fault, and try never to commit the like again, lest you should offend him more by the second offence than by the first."

The little boy thought seriously on the advice which his mother gave him; and prayed to Almighty God to forgive him, and to grant him his grace to do better in future. He then fell asleep, and arose next morning happy and cheerful.

I suppose, when he saw his cousins, he told them that he had deceived them, and that he was sorry for what he had done; and I dare say he was very careful, after

that time, never to tell an untruth or to deceive any one.

WE cannot obtain knowledge without trying to do so. We must read, and think, and reflect, and remember. All this will require time and labour. See how the children in this engraving are doing so.

Imitate them, and be resolved to gain knowledge, and every day especially to grow in heavenly wisdom.

THE WIDOW

AND HER SHIPWRECKED SON.

IN the north of England, in a small inland village, a lieutenant of the British Navy, after serving his country for many years, took up his abode. He had a pious wife, and six or seven children. She sent them to the village Sabbath school; but the eldest, a boy of fourteen years, seemed determined to profit neither by maternal love, nor pious instruction at school. He played and mingled with a class of wicked idlers that infested the village, and would have been as the worst of them, but for his father's rigid discipline. That, alone, restrained him from rushing into excesses of wickedness and riot. But that father died, and left his widow to combat the idleness of her boy alone. No, not alone; for she sought the help of her heavenly Husband.

The father being dead, the son grew worse. He was ungovernable; and the afflicted widow wept as with a broken heart, over her recreant child. Unable to restrain him, she adopted

very common mode of disposing of idle lads. She resolved to send him to sea. It was a painful alternative; but he could not grow worse there, she thought, and possibly, the severe discipline of a ship, might humble his proud spirit and lead him to reflection.

A ship was obtained for him. The bustle of preparation began and was over. Unknown to the youth, the mother placed a Bible in his chest, with the secret hope that its light might lead him to his heavenly Father, when he should be far off on the deep blue sea. Many were the prayers that mother offered for her son, many the counsels she gave him from the fulness of her heart. The day of separation came. O it was a day of trial to all but to him who was the occasion of all the sadness of that family. Warm were the tears she shed, as. pressing him to her bosom, she bade him adieu, and commended his wayward heart to God.

Many years had passed, and the wanderer had not returned. The ship had perished at sea, and the widow mourned her son as dead; and what was worse, she trembled for the safety of his undying soul. Could she have been assured of his safety in the better world, her pained heart would have been at rest. But she wept over him as doubly lost.

It was a stormy night in mid winter. The wind howled, the rain poured down in torrents, and deep darkness obscured the sky. The widow and her children, sat beside the cheerful

fire, and a chastened cheerfulness overspread the circle, though now and then a cloud of melancholy gathered over the mother's brow, as the driving storm reminded her of her lost son, when a slight tap was heard at the door. It was opened. A sailor stood there, wayworn and weather-beaten. He begged a shelter from the storm. It was not in that mother's heart to refuse a sailor on such a night, and she offered him her fire-side and her food.

When he had refreshed himself, she modestly questioned him of his condition. His tale was soon told. He had been shipwrecked, and was going home poor and penniless to his mother. He had been shipwrecked before. The widow asked him to tell the story of his sufferings.

He said that in a violent gale the ship ran ashore and went to pieces. The crew were either drowned or dashed to death upon the rocks. Himself and another were the only persons who reached the shore. They were thrown high upon the beach by a powerful wave. His companion was senseless at first, but at last revived-alas! but to die. "He was a sweet youth," the sailor observed: "once he had been the terror of the ship, for his excessive devotion to vice But suddenly he had changed. He became a serious, praying man; as remarkable for piety now as for vice before. When he revived a little on the beach," said the sailor, "he pulled a Bible from his bosom, and pressed it to his lips. It was this blessed