her two falsehoods. Oh, what would I have given to have had the morning back again !

My mother said nothing, but looked sorrowfully at me, and led me into the room where my father was. She told him that the doctor was not at home, upon which he replied, that he did not think he should last long. Oh! what remorse did I feel on seeing how pale he was, and the pain he was in! For some time I could do nothing but weep, and at length the doctor arrived on his horse. He came to my father, and said that he feared there was no hope; he, however, gave him some medicine, and promised to call again in the evening.

About four o'clock, we were all called into my father's room. He then gave us some cautions, and particularly told us to beware of the slightest approach to untruth; and as he said this he fixed his eyes upon me, for he said, that if we indulged in this habit we should neither be respected in this world, nor join him in heaven hereafter.

The doctor came again in the evening, as he promised; but my dear father was dead.

Oh, what agony did I endure in my mind! I even looked upon myself as my father's murderer, or I thought that at least I had hastened his death; for though I certainly could not tell whether he would have died

so soon, had I been where I was sent to, yet I could not get it out of my mind that I was the cause of his death. How over

whelmed with grief we all were at this sudden loss; but more particularly was I, who thought it my fault.

The next day, I confessed my fault to my sorrowing mother. She told me that she knew that I had not told the truth, but was glad that I appeared so penitent. From this time I think there was a change in my conduct, and I believe that since then I have never been guilty of a like sin.

But, even to this day, when I think of what I have just related, my heart is overwhelmed with grief, though it is now above twenty years ago. My mother is still living, and advanced in years; and at her request it is that I have made this public, for a warning to others.

Oh, what would become of me, were it not for the precious blood of Christ? My portion would surely have been, as I said before, in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone. Oh dreadful portion for liars! You, therefore, who read this, endeavour to shun my faults. Whatever sins you commit, and whatever lies you tell to hide them, God sees them all. You can hide nothing from his all-seeing eye; for he is in every place, and his eyes behold all your

actions.

K. N. H.

JOWLER is leaping to the length of his chain, as if he was in a fury; but I think it is more in pastime than in anger, for he likes a game of play as well as any dog that I know. The chain jerks him back, just as if it would throttle him. Better be quiet, Jowler! Better be quiet!

I see some people coming yonder! If they do not know Jowler, they will be sure to be frightened at him. If they are wise, too, they will not come within the length of his chain; for dogs that are playful with those they know, are often savage towards

strangers. Have a care, you there, and mind the dog!

When Jowler came from Fir-tree Farm, he was but a puppy, and now see what a big dog he is! If a thief was to come by night, into the yard, he would soon be in a sad plight if Jowler had hold of him by the leg. Be quiet, Jowler! I tell you be quiet!

I dare say Farmer Jones takes care to feed Jowler well, and so he ought; for, in the first place, he guards the house and the yard; and, in the next, being chained up, he cannot run about and pick up a bone, as dogs do that are left at liberty. Some dogs look as if they were half starved; but that is not the case with Jowler, for he has a good broad back of his own, and has plenty of flesh on his bones. Jowler, you noisy rogue you, be quiet!

I hardly know if I do right in telling Jowler to be quiet; for, poor fellow! he has so little to amuse him, that I do not wonder at his jumping about, and barking, by way of change. He cannot run about

as I can, nor read a book, nor amuse himself with playfellows. If then I have more enjoyment than he has, I ought surely to be thankful.

In my Bible reading yesterday there was this text, "He that passeth by, and meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like one that taketh a dog by the cars," Prov. xxvi.

17. I know very well, that if a stranger were to try to take Jowler by the ears, he would have cause enough to repent it. Thank you, Jowler, for putting me in mind of that text; I will try not to intermeddle in quarrels of any kind, and do my best to live in love with every one.

NNNNNN

PLACES MENTIONED IN THE BIBLE.

LEBANON.

LEBANON is one of the loftiest and most celebrated mountains in Palestine ; the northern boundary between that country and the province of Syria. Though human works of art must change and pass away; rivers and mountains, as the works of God, stand firm, and still continue. Mount Lebanon is seen from a great distance, its summit being always covered with snow, Jer. xviii. 14, on account of its extreme height; and from this circumstance, or else from the white frankincense here procured, or still more probably from the whitish limestone which composed its soil, it derived its name Lebanon, signifying white. Watered by numerous mountain springs, Sol. Song. iv. 15, the sides are covered with all sorts of plants, according to the different varieties of temperature; like a conservatory adapted to the productions