could hear and speak of Christ her Saviour. Her lessons were learned from a book of questions and answers, and she never failed of a perfect lesson at school.

Now, Emily, and Hattie, and Henry, how do you suppose she could always have a perfect lesson? I will tell you. She did not wait until Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, before she learned it.

It is but a short time, since I heard a kind mother saying to her Emma and Frank, "Come, my dears, 'tis Saturday afternoon, and you must get your Sunday-school lesson." But with a sullen

little pout, Emma says—

"I don't want to get it to-day! There will be plenty of time to-morrow morning! Say, mother, must I get it?"

"Yes, my dear, you must learn it today," replied her mother, with decision. And with the impatient and thoughtless exclamation, "Oh dear, I wish I didn't

have to go to Sunday-school!" Emma threw herself upon the sofa.

Think of it, dear children-"not wish to go to Sunday-school!" Do you ever wish you were not obliged to go? Do you not wish to know about that dear blessed Saviour, who came into the world, and suffered and died for you? Do you not wish to know the way to that bright world beyond the grave? And do you not wish to know about those beautiful mansions and the great white throne, where Jesus sits to receive the praise and adoration of all saints? If you do, then go to the Sunday-school; and may you delight to go! I hope little Emma will read this book; for I think she would never say again that she does not want to go to Sunday-school.

But I see by your anxious faces that you are waiting to know how our little Gratia always had a perfect lesson. You desire to do as well as she did. Well,

she always learned it in advance. By that I mean, she learned some time before she was to recite it. Her mother remarked to me once, that often, when she had a few moments of leisure, she would say, "Gratia, now is a good time to learn a little of your Sunday-school lesson." Her reply would usually be

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Oh, mother, I learned that lesson a week ago—or a long time ago," and many times she would have it committed two and three weeks in advance.

6*

CHAPTER VIII.

DEAR child, do you ever think how beautiful the sky is? When you look at the soft, floating clouds, and watch their ever-changing forms, tracing mountains and cities, animals and men, do you remember who it is that has made this glorious sky, and who now permits you to enjoy it?

Gratia, too, was fond of gazing at the sky, especially at sunset; and she would often exclaim, "Come, mother, come and see the golden clouds! Oh, how beautiful they are! Where do you suppose heaven is? The Bible says, our Saviour was carried up to heaven, and that he will come in the clouds of heaven." And then she would watch the stars as they appeared one by one, until they sparkled

like brilliant gems over the entire firmament; and she would repeat that little hymn, which I presume you learned a long time ago—

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star!"

Every thing she saw seemed to make her happy! Her young heart was full of love and sympathy. "She lived to love." But most of all she loved God and his works, and her soul praised him continually. She desired to be sincere in her worship and in her Christianity; for so her conversation proved. Her mother says, “At one time Gratia said to me, 'What is it, mother, to pray with the heart?' I explained it to her, when she quickly replied, "Then I pray with the heart, mother!' No morning passed without that sweet, earnest petition, 'Mother, you will pray with me to-day?' and if no opportunity presented for us to retire for that purpose, she would come again,