So Clement felt very happy as he walked along by his father's side. He was awakened from his dream by a question.

'Clement, my boy, what makes you so fond of music?' said Dr. Bradley, who was feeling very proud of his little son.

'What makes me?' replied Clement. 'Oh, I don't know; I can't help it; it is something inside me.'

'Do you care more for music than anything else?'

'Oh yes, I do love it so, papa. I feel as though I could not live without it. I don't care about anything else at all except my flowers, and when I am with them I am thinking music all the time.'

'And do you love music more than any person, Clem-more than me or Effie?' asked his papa.

'Oh no, papa,' exclaimed the boy, taking his father's hand fondly; 'only it is different. Why, I don't know what I should do without Effie; the whole world would be miserable.'

'So it would, Clem,' answered Dr. Bradley. 'Effie is our angel in the house, is not she?'

'Yes, she is like one, I am sure; and that is why she is so good to me. No one else loves me but Effie, and Miss Jewel, and you, papa. I know they don't, and it makes me so unhappy; and then I think I will not care for them, I will only care for

my dear music, and try not to want anything else,' and the boy's voice trembled, and he began to sob.

'Hush, hush, my boy,' said Dr. Bradley kindly. 'Don't cry. I can't bear to see a boy cry; it is not manly;' and he sat down on a bench by the roadside, and took Clement between his knees.

'Now, Clem, look here, I want to talk to you seriously; for though you are only a child, I think you can understand much that is beyond other children. God has given you a great gift, my boy, and I want to see you dedicate that gift to Him, and try to use it in His service. You must not use it selfishly, only for your own enjoyment; and that is what I am afraid you are inclined to do. Is it not so, my son?' Clement hesitated, and then whispered, 'Yes.' His conscience told him that his father's words were true.

'You may fancy, Clement, that music cannot be made useful to others, but I am sure it can. There is nothing that gives people generally more pleasure, nothing that softens their hearts so much, and so lifts them above the cares and sorrows of this life. Do not let mere personal ambition fill your heart, my boy, but try to think how you may be a minister of consolation by this divine gift; for I do think music is a divine art, and one that you will use to all eternity. It will be one of the chief employ

ments of Heaven itself. And is not that a glorious thought, Clement, that what you are learning now you may practise in the very presence of Almighty God, if you are a good boy and try to do His will on earth! It is not often, my boy, that I can have a quiet talk with you, and I want now to impress you. I want you to think of my words when I am gone back to my busy life in London, and you are leading your everyday life of lessons, and practising, and pleasure. I want you always to carry this thought in your heart, that you are God's child, that you were baptized into His holy Church, and made a member of Christ; and I want you to try to serve and please Him in every thing you do. Nothing but this will make you a good, happy boy, and I want to see you happy, Clem. Will you try to remember, my son?'

'Yes, papa,' whispered Clem solemnly; and he did mean to keep his promise.

There was a short silence, and then Dr. Bradley spoke again.

'And now, Clement, about being a chorister boy, why is it you so much wish to be one?'

'Because it will be so delightful to sing those beautiful hymns and psalms to that splendid organ, papa.'

'Is that your only reason, Clement?'

A

'Yes, papa; I don't know any other reason.' 'Then, my boy, I am afraid you are hardly fit. chorister boy should remember that his office is to sing praises to God: if you go thinking only of the beautiful music, you are dishonouring God in whose presence you are, and His house. You should lift up your heart as well as your voice. It is a very great privilege for any little boy to be allowed to sit in the choir and help to make the worship beautiful, and he ought to try to be a very good little boy, or he is not worthy. He ought to sing his very best, because his heart is so full of love to his dear Lord and Master, whose praises he is singing; will you try to remember this too, Clement?'

'Yes,' said Clement. And, papa, it is very much the same as what the Vicar said to me.'

'Well now, we had better walk on, and I am sure you have enough to think of for one day," said Dr. Bradley, rising.

US went back to school after Easter; and as the children were all so much better,

they settled down into a more regular school-keeping life, for Miss Jewel had found that so much play time sadly interfered with their lessons.

Clem's whole afternoons were now given up to music, and he did try to remember his father's good advice, and did his very best to improve; but he was still too much wrapped up in himself, and it was very seldom that he would play at all with Leslie and Maggie, and they called him a disagreeable, selfish boy, and he thought more than ever that no one but Effie loved him, and he would go off to his beloved piano for consolation.

Little idea had any one of the struggles the poor boy had with himself; of how he longed to be like other children, and take an interest in their games and pleasures, and could not; or how his little