"Surely, my dear Miss, the Bible tells us so. It says, 'in every thing, by prayer and supplication make your requests known unto God.'"

"The Bible!" said Jane; "some of our young ladies at school have very handsome ones, bound in morocco and gilt; they take them with their prayer-books every Sunday to church. But I have not one."

"Do they not read the Bible then at school ?" said Margaret.—"No," said Jane." And don't you read it at home?" asked Margaret. The answer was, "No, we have not one."

"Ah!" said Margaret, sighing, "I am sorry for it, I have one, and I would not on any account pass a day without reading some portion of it."

"Why so?" inquired Jane.

"Because," said Margaret, "it is God's own word. It is the blessed book which he has given to tell us how we may be saved, and how at last we may get to heaven."

"Was that the book then," said Jane, "that you was reading last night?"

"Yes," replied Margaret, "it was; but I did not know you saw me."

"I should like to read it much," said Jane.

D

Margaret's eyes glistened with delight; this was what she ardently desired. "You are too weak, my dear, I fear, just now," said she, "but, if you like, I will read it to you."

"Do, do, that's a good, kind Margaret. I am sure I shall love you so."

Margaret took the book, and read part of the history of our Saviour: having finished a chapter, she was about to close the book, when her auditor said, "Do not stop; go on, Margaret."—"But, my dear, you are tired, and I should do wrong to fatigue you."—"No," said she, "I am not tired; I like it much; pray, pray go on."

It was with difficulty at last that she, after reading several chapters, was able to close the book, so deeply had her auditor become engaged; and it was only by promising to resume the reading in the afternoon that she could pacify the mind of Jane.

In the afternoon she again, at Jane's earnest solicitation, resumed the reading of the sacred Scriptures, and was delighted to find with what avidity her auditor listened to her. She saw that already a deep interest had been awakened in the bosom of Jane in behalf of religion, and often did she secretly lift up her

neart in silent and ejaculatory prayer, that the good Spirit of light and wisdom would aid and succeed her humble endeavours.

When Jane was about to retire for the night, as she occupied a sofa during the day, she thus commenced a conversation with Margaret, who was aiding to undress her:

"I have been thinking, Margaret, that I ought not now to go to bed without praying to God: but I do not know how to pray."

Margaret now felt inexpressible pleasure at hearing this avowal, and answered,

"I am glad to hear you say so, Miss Jane, and if you really desire to know how to pray, God will teach you; for in his Word he has promised to teach those who desire it. He has promised to give his people 'the spirit of prayer and supplication.'"

"But what shall I say? I do not know what words to utter; I am afraid I should talk nonsense; and then God Almighty would be angry with me."

"I have," said Margaret, "a book which contains several prayers written for children, which I will lend you, and you will find some

that are very suitable for you.

But the good

lady who taught me at our Sunday-school

used to say, 'prayer is desire; it is the language of the heart;' and if the desire exist in our hearts, God can understand it, even when we can find no words in which to speak it." "How can that be ?" said Jane.

"Why," answered Margaret, "God searches the heart,' the Scriptures tell us so; and therefore he knows our wants. He is our Father in Heaven: you know that a little child who cannot speak can make its parents sensible to its wants; and, if by no other way, yet when the father or mother sees its tears rolling down its cheeks, they understand its meaning better than if it could speak ever such fine words."

"Yes, I understand you," said Jane; "but I wish you would kneel down and pray with me to-night. Then I shall know better how I should pray, and I will read the prayer myself to-morrow."

Margaret knelt by her bedside as soon as Jane had lain down, and in the simplicity and fervour of her soul poured out her heart to God, earnestly supplicating for the Holy Spirit to enlighten her charge, to renew her heart, and make her wise unto salvation; so deeply was she affected, that her tears flowed down apace. Jane was affected too; and when the

prayer was ended, she kissed Margaret, and said, "Now I am happy; oh! Margaret, I do love you, you are so kind and good."

"No, my dear," answered Margaret, "I am not good. I feel that by nature I have a very wicked heart, and the Scriptures tell us, 'there is none good but one, that is God.'"

"No," said Jane, "you cannot have a wicked heart, or else you would not pray so." "We will talk about that to-morrow," said her nurse; "now you are tired, and had better go to sleep." So saying, she wished her good night.

On the ensuing morning Jane read one of the prayers which Margaret had lent her, and after the surgeon had visited her, requested her attendant again to read to her the sacred Scriptures. When Margaret was tired, she begged the loan of the book for herself, and, as she lay upon her sofa, read it with great avidity, though not without some difficulty and pain.

After the book was laid aside, she said to Margaret, "I have been thinking on what you said last night, that by nature you had a bad heart; and when you prayed for me, you asked