SAYING PRAYERS.
To say my prayers is not to pray,
Unless I mean the things I say,

Ι
Unless I think to whom I speak,
And with my heart His favour seek.
In prayer we speak to God above,
We seek the blessed Saviour's love,
We ask for pardon of our sin,
And grace to make us pure within.
My infant lips were early taught
To say “Our Father,” as I ought;

Ι
And every morn and every night,
To use my daily prayer is right.

But oh, if I am found to smile,
Or play, or look about the while,
Or think vain thoughts, the Lord will see,
And how can He be pleased with me?

Then let me, when I kneel to pray,
Not only mind the words I say;
But also strive, with earnest care,
To let

my
heart

go
with

my prayer.

A SUNDAY HYMN.
This is God's most holy day,
We must neither work nor play ;
But we'll try to pray and sing,
And to serve our heavenly King.

Oh, 'tis pleasant now to go
To our Saviour's house below;
And we hope to sing and love
In our Saviour's house above.—Mrs. Parson.
BABY.
LITTLE brother, darling boy,

You are very dear to me!
I am happy-full of joy,

When your smiling face I see.
How I wish that you could speak,

And could know the words I say,
Pretty stories I would seek,

To amuse you every day,–

All about the honey-bees,

Flying past us in the sun ;
Birds that sing among the trees,

Lambs that in the meadows run.

Shake your rattle-here it is—

Listen to its merry noise ;
And, when you are tired of this,

I will bring you other toys.-M. L. Duncan.

THE ASS. Do see that poor Ass, how he hobbles along, Though once, I dare say, he was healthy and strong ; Now he seems hardly able to keep on the road, And scarcely can carry that great heavy load. And that cruel man, how he serves the poor beast, He hardly will give him a moment to rest; He kicks, and belabours the poor starving hack; Why does he not move that great load from his back, And not make him carry a burden so great ? I wonder it does not fall down in the street ; He won't let him stop for that mouthful of hay, Though he has been working so hard all the day.

And yet, after all, he is patient, you see,
And his look seems to say, “Do have pity on me.”
I think, could he speak, he would say, “ Cruel man,
I'm sure that I work for you all that I can.”

THE SWEETEST STORY.
I THINK, when I read that sweet story of old,

When Jesus dwelt here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,

I should like to have been with Him then.

I wish that His hand had been put on my head,

And that I had been placed on His knee, And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,

“ Let the little ones come unto Me."

a

Yet still to His footstool in prayer I

may go, 'And ask for a share in His love ; And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,

I shall hear Him and see Him above,

In that beautiful place He is gone

to prepare For all who are washed and forgiven; And many

dear children are gath’ring there, For of such is the kingdom of heaven.

But thousands and thousands who wander and fall,

Never heard of that heavenly home;
I should like them to know there is room for them all,

And that Jesus has bid them to come.

I long for that blessed and glorious time

The fairest, the brightest, the best When the dear little children of

every

clime Shall crowd to His arms and be blessed.

Mrs. Luke.

C

THANKFULNESS. WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad How

many poor I see : What should I render to my God,

For all His gifts to me ?

Not more than others I deserve,

Yet God has given me more ;
For I have food while others starve,

Or beg from door to door.
How
many

children in the street, Half naked, I behold ; While I am clothed from head to feet,

And covered from the cold.

While some poor wretches scarce can tell

Where they may lay their head,
I have a home wherein to dwell,

And rest upon my bed.
While others early learn to swear,

And curse, and lie, and steal,
Lord! I am taught thy name to fear,

And do thy holy will.
Are these thy favours day by day,

To me above the rest ?
Then let me love Thee more than they,

And strive to serve Thee best.

Watts.

GOD'S CARE OF US. From His high throne above the sky,

The Lord can all things see; I cannot see Him, but his eye

Looks kindly down on me.