by no means chide and fight; for it is a shameful thing. Masters, give unto your servants that which is just and equal and forbear threatening, knowing that you also have a master in heaven who is no respecter of persons. Servants, obey in all things your masters according to the flesh, not with eye service as men pleasers, but in singleness of heart fearing God.

Teachers, in the fear of God, labour diligently to teach the best things in the best manner. Teach science, teach industry, teach religion. Scholars, respect and love your teachers; attend closely to instruction, retain what you learn, and practise that which is good. Neighbours and fellows, as ye would that men should do to you, do ye the same to them, for this is the law and the prophets.

It was on a pleasant summer's evening that the aged pastor of one of the New England villages took his usual walk, after spending the whole day in study. The sun had already sunk in the west, and was pouring his last rays into the golden sky as he entered the village grave yard.

The good man was pressing beneath his trembling steps the sod which covered many of his beloved pa2

rishioners when he came to the spot where lay his wife and three beautiful daughters, whose loveliness like the opening flower, was blasted, ere it was fully exhibited.

The pastor leaned on his staff and bent over these graves and was just marking out the spot by their side, where he hoped shortly to lie in peace, when he was startled by the sobs of a child. He turned, and at a little distance beheld a lovely little white headed boy who was, kneeling and sobbing over the grave of his father whose remains had been lately deposited beneath. With a willing heart the good man approached the child of his friend, and with an angel's tenderness he raised and kissed this orphan lamb of his flock, whose face was pale and languid through grief, and whose bright blue eyes were swollen by weeping. He sat down beside him and pressed him to his bosom. "O, sir," said the child, "I am seeking for my father; he lies here in this grave. They tell me he will never again be my father. I fear that I have offended him and I want to ask him to forgive me and to kiss me as he used to do. O! if he would once more be my father and smile upon me, I would never again offend him. But they say he is dead. O! I would sit here and cry all night; I would never stop if my dear father would come to me. But he will not come. A

few days before they put him in this grave he told me -O! I do remember-he told me he was going to leave me, and I should never have a father any more; and he stroked my hair with his sick hand, and told me, when he was buried in the ground that I must be a good boy and love God. O my father, my father!" The feeling pastor pressed the hand of the sorrowing child within his; soothed him into confidence, and then directed him to a Father who would never forsake him. My dear little boy," said he, "you have indeed lost a tender father, but I will tell you of a Father who has promised never to forsake the poor orphan."

"But" says the child, "what is it to be an orphan?" "It is to be left destitute of parents while we are yet children."

"I think I understand, but what is a poor orphan?” The old man was affected, but replied, "it is a child who is left destitute of property as well as friends." "O I wish," said the child in the simplicity of his heart, "I wish I was a poor orphan, then God would be my father."

The good minister wept, for he knew that the child, with respect to property, would be fully satisfied. "I trust my dear child, that God will be your father. You know our lives are short, and our death certain.

We should therefore devote our lives to God that we may meet death with peace. I hope you will not only be good and live so as to meet your father in heaven, but I hope your life will be spent in trying to do good to others." The clergyman took hold of the hand of the child and they knelt in prayer to God on the grave. The petition was, that God would provide for the little orphan. It was now dark except what light was afforded by the bright twinkling of the stars. As they left the grave yard, the good shepherd directed the attention of his lamb to these wonderful works of God, and his heart beat with joy when he exclaimed, "my Father made them all."