Oh how much have I los+

service, to self-denial, and giving up all that made life pleasant; and now I find it was a call to happiness, for "His ways are ways of pleasantness, and all his paths are peace." through my own folly! How have I grieved the heart that felt nothing but love for me! Oh, that I could bring back those wasted years, and employ them in loving, grateful service! But it cannot be; and I can only mourn in humble penitence over the past, and thank my Saviour that he made me hear his voice before it was too late."

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOUR?

CHAPTER II.

WHEN Ellen reached home she found an unexpected visitor in their little parlour. It was her grandfather. He lived a few miles out of town, but he had come in the day before to stay a short time with a married son; and he had stepped in now to see Ellen's mother, and to have tea with them. Ellen sprang forward for a kiss; and as soon as the little bustle of meeting was over, her mother said, "Where is Bessy ?"

"Oh, she will be here presently, mother. She has gone off with a poor child whom we saw in the street, and who said she had lost her way. I am sure she could have found it herself; but Bessy is so silly, she will run anywhere at anybody's beck and call."

"Do you not think it was kind of her to try to

put the child right ?" said her grandfather, gravely; for he did not approve of Ellen's tone, or manner.

"Oh yes, grandfather," said Ellen, lightly; "but she was such a poor miserable-looking girl that I should not have liked to be seen with her. But it is all the same to Bessy as if she had been well dressed: Bessy does not care what low people she mixes with."

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Hush, Ellen," said her mother, "your tongue runs a little too fast. You had better go and put off your bonnet and mantle, and then set the tea things ready."

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Ellen grows, does she not ?" asked her mother, when the parlour door was closed.

"Yes," said the grandfather, "she grows taller, but I am not so sure that she grows wiser."

"She is a little too fond of dress and show, perhaps," said Mrs. Taylor, "but she is certainly a clever child. She learns with scarcely any trouble; and she will tell you the meaning of anything you ask her before Bessy has begun to think about it.” "Ah, but," said the old gentleman, “head knowledge is not all that is wanted."

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No; certainly not," said Mrs. Taylor. "Now, Bessy, though she is not nearly so sharp as Ellen, is very kind and tender-hearted, and will help anybody who is in trouble, if she can. Only it is a pity she is so backward with her learning."

Then Mrs. Taylor went into the kitchen to make the tea and the toast, and while she was thus engaged, she sent Ellen in to talk to her grandfather. He asked her presently what she had been doing

at school that afternoon, and Ellen gave him a very good account of the lesson which Miss Chester had taught them. She not only related the parable correctly, but she told its meaning, in a way that showed that she thoroughly understood it; and old Mr. Taylor could not but be pleased with her good memory and her thoughtful. ness. But when he said to her, "And do you ever try, Ellen, to act as the kind man in the parable did? Are you as ready as he was to assist any one in distress ?" Ellen was not quite so much at her ease. Her conscience whispered to her that she seldom cared for the comfort of others; and that she was more like the priest and the Levite, who passed by on the other side. But she did not listen to her conscience, and said quickly in reply, 'I don't think there is anything that I can do, grandfather: if I were older or richer, I should like to be useful."

"But, Ellen, a child can be kind to other children; to her schoolfellows, for instance, or to any poor boy or girl that comes in her way. I dare say you have learnt this text at your class-He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much; and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.' (Luke xvi. 10.) What you are now, my dear child, you are likely to be when you are grown up; and, therefore, it is so important that you should have right habits and right feelings while you are young. I am glad to find you know so much, Ellen, but I want you also to practise what you know."

It was a relief to Ellen that at this moment her sister appeared, because her coming in interrupted the conversation. Bessy looked very warm, for she had walked back quickly. "Well, little maid,” said her grandfather, pleasantly, 30 you have been running about with strange little girls instead of hastening home to see me."

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Bessy coloured, and smiled. "Oh, but I did not know you were here, grandfather; and she was such a poor little girl, and she seemed in such trouble, that I could not help going with her. She was less than me, though she is quite as old, and so shy and frightened, that I don't think she could have found her way unless somebody had shown her.” "You did quite right, dear," said her grandfather. "We ought to be useful, even in little ways, whenever we can. Was the little girl very poor ?"

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Oh, yes," said Bessy; "she had such an old frock on, and such ragged boots, but she was clean; and she said they had once been much better off." Bessy went on to tell her grandfather all that she knew about Ruth and her parents; and she ended her little story by saying, with a look of delight, "And she has almost, if not quite, promised that she will go with us to the Sunday school next Sunday."

"With us!" thought Ellen, who was standing by listening: "I am not going to school with that shabby-looking child beside me. Why, Fanny Mason, or Martha Field, would be sure to think she was our cousin."