'Oh,' said the man, 'there is a small leak; but, never mind; it will do us no harm: it would not be good in a storm, but' (looking at the sky) 'there is no fear tonight; so, come along.' So they hoisted the sail, and we heard them singing merrily, as they moved out to

sea.

"The sun had quite set, and the darkness was coming on, before we went into the house. In a short time we felt that there was a change in the weather. The wind began to rise, and whistled through the passages, making the doors and windows shake, and soon we heard the noise of the waves dashing up against the garden-wall. We were quite safe and comfortable; but our thoughts turned anxiously to the many ships and boats we had seen so lately on the quiet waters.

"Then we thought we heard cries from the sea, and, between the large waves, the sound of a bell, as if some one were in great distress. We could not rest at home, and we went down to the shore. The peo

ple of the village were all running about, the women sobbing and screaming, the men calling for the life-boat. We could see, in the darkness, a feeble light glimmering out at sea, and again the bell rang violently. Then the light disappeared, and we did not hear the bell again; but cries for help seemed to come on the wind.

"By this time the life-boat was ready, and four strong men jumped into it, and made for the place where the light had last been seen. Oh, how eagerly we looked and listened, and watched for their return! God was very merciful, and they were not too late. They found the man and boy we had watched in the evening, still clinging to the mast; but their boat had gone down. And what had sunk their boat? Just

the small leak.

Do you think it appeared small to

them then, that dreary night, when the winds and water were rising round them?

"Now learn, my dear child, never to call any sin a little thing. Remember how great it will look on a sick and dying bed, and how much greater when we stand before the judgment-seat of Christ."-Selected.

LITTLE MATTIE.

"When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies"

sang a sweet, childish voice. I looked within. My little house-maid was busy with the brush and the dust-pan, her curly pate bobbing up and down as she went the rounds of her daily task.

Mattie was a bright eyed, happy creature, always singing the good evangelical hymns of the olden time and I had boasted to my friends of my treasure, till they had almost envied me the possession of the honest little serving-maid; and I went up stairs to my toilet, with her gentle music sounding in my ear, and thanked God that I too could sing, in the language of faith,

"I'll bid farewell to every fear,

And wipe my weeping eyes."

The blinds were all closed to shut out the hot sun. A soft and agreeable dimness pervaded the large oldfashioned room, and a faint ruby tinge glowed through the heavy crimson curtains. Seated in an easy chair, I was reading sleepily, and the words were just blending into that strange prismatic confusion which precedes unconsciousness, when I heard a light step trip by, and almost without thought I found myself following a little form up the stairs.

In my boudoir stood Mattie, looking at, nay, hand

ling a small diamond brooch, which I had often observed her gaze at with childish admiration. Evidently some struggle was going on in her hitherto innocent mind. She placed it down, lifted it again, held it at arm's length, and finally—Oh, how my heart sank !cast a hurried glance about her, concealed the brooch in her bosom, and then guiltily took up her simple sewing. She had always sat there to sew after noon.

At first I felt like confronting her, for my temper is quick, but better thoughts prevailed. I returned to the sitting-room, and in a little time sent for Mattie.

She came in slowly-her ingenuousness was gone! The vivacious sparkle of her eye had faded, and, without intending it, she assumed a side-long position.

"I am lonely, Mattie; bring your sewing here, sit on this little stool, and keep me company. You were singing a sweet hymn when I came down this morning, Mattie; who taught you to sing?"

"My mother, ma'am," came in a low faint voice.

"Yes, I remember your mother; she was a sweet woman, a good Christian, and is now an angel. I don't believe she would willingly have done a wrong deed; do you, Mattie?"

No, ma'am," murmured the child, and her cheeks crimsoned painfully.

"I remember"-I went on, as if to myself" how very beautiful she looked as she lay wasting away, and how quiet and happy she was when she came to die. Ah! Mattie, you and I may have just as sweet a dying pillow, if we never do anything wrong—if we only try to obey God's commandments."

I saw the flush deepening, the lips beginning to quiver. The little fingers shook violently as they passed the tremulous needle through; the little bosom heaved: I had touched the right chord.

"Mattie, I love to hear you sing; sing me that sweet hymn, beginning,

'Alas! and did my Saviour bleed.""

The poor conscience-stricken little creature obeyed my request with a faltering voice. She conquered the first verse, but when she began on the second,

"Was it for crimes that I"

her voice failed, her frame quivered all over, and she burst into a passion of grief, burying her face in my lap.

Tears were running in swift streams down my own cheeks, as the heavy sobs told her suffering.

'Mattie,” I said, as well as I was able for emotion, "what have you been doing, my child, to make you weep thus?"

She dashed the guilt out of her bosom with the brooch, and, throwing it wildly from her, sobbed, "I took it I stole it-I meant to sell it—Oher prolonged moan was anguish itself.

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and

I took the struggling child to my heart, I laid my hand upon her burning temples, and let her hide the wet, shame-covered face in my bosom. God knows I felt fully at that moment something of the divine name of forgiveness, and the compassionate pity for sin, yet love for the sinner, which, methinks in their perfection, proved Christ's divinity. In my mind's eye, I saw a long and sorrowful procession of unfortunates, headed by Mary Magdalene, forgiven and sanctified by the precious intercession and holy benediction of the Saviour of sinners, and my prayer was, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us!"

Mattie is sitting by me this moment. She is saved. -Olive Branch.

THE BURIAL OF MOSES.

"And He buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Bethpeor; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day."-DEUT. xxxiv. 6.

By Nebo's lonely mountain,

On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale, in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave.
And no man dug that sepulchre,

And no man saw it e'er;

For the angels of God upturn'd the sod,

And laid the dead man there.

That was the grandest funeral
That ever pass'd on earth;
But no man heard the trampling,
Or saw the train go forth.
Noiselessly as the daylight

Comes, when the night is done,

And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun;

Noiselessly as the spring time

Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees, on all the hills,
Open their thousand leaves ;-

So, without sound of music,

Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crewn
The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle,

On gray Beth-peor's height,

Out of his rocky eyrie

Look'd on the wond'rous sight;