and, since their reunion, had had to encounter many obstacles, and bear the weight of many heavy disappointments. I confidently hoped and believed that the good sense of one or both of them, would in time lead them to see their error, and the sin of thus fretting and irritating each other. Nor was I disappointed. The younger, whose conscience was the most sensitive, first made the discovery, and immediately began trying to remedy the evil, and to induce her sister to aid her in the endeavor. Imagining some of her thoughts and feelings, I have put them in rhyme.

We have done wrong, dear sister; and I'm very sad to-day:
For I have felt how far we've strayed from wisdom's blessed way;
Have felt how much of angry strife hath dwelt within our hearts,
And how, when that has entered in, Life's happiness departs.

We have done wrong, dear sister; for we have not patient been,
But answered often hasty words by hasty words again;
And when we should with gentle acts have soothed each other's care,
We've made by cold indifference our lot more hard to bear.

We have done wrong, dear sister; I remember how we've grieved
Our widowed mother's anxious heart, so long of joy bereaved;
O, were we loving, good, and kind, and all our murmurings o'er,
Might not the smiles come back again and light her face once more?

I know our lot in life, thus far, hath not been smooth and fair;
That often much of toil and ill has fallen to our share;
But why, dear sister, why should we ourselves the load increase?
Why, by our jangling and our strife, shut out all joy and peace?

And more: we have offended God; this day I feel and know
We have forgotten his commands, and gained us nought but woe.
O join with me as, filled with grief, most earnestly I pray,
That he will yet be merciful, and take our sin away.

"Love thou each other;" "love all men;" "and love shall make you free;"
Thus said the Savior, Jesus; and let this our watchword be;
Let us each other love; and pray that gentle thoughts may come,
And gentle words and acts may make an Eden of our home.

Forgive me now, dear sister, all the anger I have shown,
And all my past unkindness, through the years already flown;
I'll love thee faithfully and true, and lay all harshness by;
To be my loving sister, then, wilt thou not also try?

LITTLE EMMA.

One Saturday afternoon, little Emma came into her mother's room, and said to her, "Mother, may I go with Abba to her Sunday school? She says, they are all so happy there."

"My child," said her mother, "why do you wish to leave your own school and go to a strange one?"

"Because, mother, Abba has often told me what a good school they have, and how much she loves it."

"Well, as you are very anxious to go, I will grant your request this once, on condition that it must never be repeated."

The next morning, this pleasant little girl was up very early to make ready to go with her friend to the new Sabbath school.

She was delighted with all she saw and heard; and when the pastor took her by the hand, she said to herself, "I wish mother would permit me to come here every Sunday. I will ask her, at any rate." After the school was dismissed, she went home, revolving in her mind what she should say to obtain her mother's consent.

Her mother observed how thoughtful she appeared, and said to her, "Emma, how did you like Abba's Sunday school?"

"Oh, mother! I was so happy; do let me go there. They sing so sweetly, and the pastor was so kind. He had an affectionate word for all. Their superintendent, too, was so pleasant, I know I should love him."

Her mother said to her, with a very sorrowful countenance, "Do you know, my child, that they teach very erroneous doctrines there, in regard to a future life? They teach that all will be eventually holy and happy, both the good and the bad."

"But, mother, I should think it would make us all happy to believe so. The minister told us that 'God is Love;' and that cannot be a bad doctrine. I am sure I would much rather think so, than that he would hate any of us, for you have often told me that hatred was very wicked. I cannot think that a good and wise being would do that which you have taught me is wrong. Then they all seem to love each other dearly. They are like a pleasant family of brothers and sisters. Do let me go, will you not, dear mother? I should be so happy."

Her mother said many things to convince her that it was not right to change her school. But she was very unhappy, and said so often, "Do let me go," that her mother consented to gratify her; thinking, perhaps, that she would soon tire of it.

Sunday came, and Emma was nearly the first one there; so anxious was she to be in season.

She entered the schoolroom with a bright and happy face, and when the superintendent came to her, she said, "I have come to join your Sabbath school. Will you receive me?"

To add to her joy, the superintendent gave her a seat in the same class with her friend Abba, who was a very kind and good little girl; and she found a number of others in the class who were very glad to see her there. One little girl lent her a book to study, and when the teacher gave her a lesson for the next Sabbath, she said, "I have a lesson now. Fanny lent me her book, and I have already learned a lesson from it."

This pleased her teacher very much; for she thought that there were many little girls who would have been very glad of such an excuse to put off their lessons. Ever after, she was very constant in her attendance, always had her lessons very perfect, and never stayed at home, even if it chanced to be a rainy clay; for she would say, "My teacher will be there; and I am sure if she is there, I can go. Besides, I know it will make her very happy to see me always in my place."

In this way did this good little Emma continue to go on, acquiring knowledge, and gaining the love and good-will of all who knew her. She was always happy and cheerful; kind to her parents, obliging to her brothers and sisters, ever ready to assist the poor and destitute, having a kind word and a happy smile for all. And this she learned from that one great and ennobling truth, that "God is Love."

THE OLD SABBATH SCHOOLROOM.

How dear to our hearts is that old Sabbath schoolroom,
Which each Sunday morning presents to our view;
The seats, the piano, the portrait that's near it,
And ev'ry loved thing which our memory knew.
Our dearly-loved pastor, his wife who comes with him,
Our Superintendent, and dear Mrs. G.,
The teachers, the pupils, and faithful Librarians,
We each Sabbath morning invariably see.
   That old Sabbath schoolroom, that dearly-loved schoolroom,
   That blessed old schoolroom where all love to be.

That old Sabbath schoolroom we hail as a treasure;
For often, when weary and anxious with care,
We've found it the place of a heavenly pleasure
We seek for with ardor, but find not elsewhere.
How eager we enter, with hearts that are glowing,
And quick to our places,—we all know them well,—
And then with our song-books, and souls overflowing,
The anthem of praise we unitedly swell,
   That old Sabbath schoolroom, that dearly-loved schoolroom,
   That blessed old schoolroom where all love to be.

Blest truth,—from our teachers with joy we receive it,—
That God is our Father, our Savior and Friend!
There's nought so alluring could tempt us to leave it,
Though fraught with all pleasures the fancy can lend.
And when far removed to some distant location,
The