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Just going to."no squad. bra OW, mother, isn't Hal too provoking! He promised to take me strawberrying with him, and now he's gone and left me," cried Jessie, winking back her

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tears.

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Our Hal broken his promise! Her mother looked as if she could hardly believe it.

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"Why no, mother, I suppose not exactly. You see, he said I might go if I would be ready at two o'clock, and I was just going to put on my things, when he started off as hard as he could run. There he is now, away down the other side of the Common!" she added, with a little sob.

"And it is a quarter past two. Why didn't you get ready in time?"

"I didn't think it was so late. Besides, I was going as soon as I had finished dolly's apron. But Hal said the rest were waiting, and he could not stay another minute.”

"And you don't blame him, Jessie? He had no right to keep the other children waiting, any more than you had to keep him. I am sorry you have lost your afternoon's pleasure just because you were behind the time, but you can do nothing now but make the best of it, and learn that while you are just going' your chance may be just gone."

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Jessie who had early learned that "it is of no use to cry for spilled milk," drew a deep sigh, and sat down to console herself with a book.

By-and-bye her mother put down her work-basket and went out of the room, saying,—

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'Jessie dear, look after the baby, and don't let him go out of your sight."

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"Yes, mother, I'll watch him. Here, Birdie, come see what Jessie has got!"

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Baby took the china doll she gave him, tasted of its head, pounded the floor with it, shook it as a cat would a mouse, and then crept off on an exploring expedition. Presently Jessie heard a crash and a cry that made her heart stand still. She rushed into the next room, and there sat baby Dick on the floor, covered with bits of broken glass, and a little stream of blood running down his white forehead. He had pulled over and broken a vase on his own head. His screams soon brought their mother, and while she was bathing the wound, Jessie stood by, saying,—

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"I had missed him, and was just going after him, when I heard him cry. Poor little Dick!"

"If you had only gone, my daughter, instead of meaning to go," was the sober answer, he would have been saved this sad wound."

When Jessie's mother went up to bed with her that night, she asked,

"Has this been a pleasant day to my little girl?"

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No, mother, it has been the worst kind of day. In the first place, I was late at school this morning, and that put me out of humour for the whole morning. Then I couldn't go with Hal, and, worst of all, poor baby got hurt. Hasn't it been a day of misfortunes?"

"And every one of them has happened because you were 'just going to' do, instead of doing."

Jessie unlaced her boots in sober silence. At last she said, "But I never mean to be late."

"Of course you don't. But the mischief is, my dear child, that you feel as if it were all well enough as long as you are just going to do your duty. That is a great mistake; just going to amounts to nothing. Do it. Don't stop to mean to do it ;" and Mrs. Richmond spoke so earnestly that Jessie looked up into her face and said,—

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"Why, mother, what makes you care so much about it? Do you think I am so very bad?"

Her mother took her in her arms, and answered,-" I

am sick at heart, Jessie, because I am afraid 'just going to will spoil your whole life. It cheats you of your pleasures, and hinders you from your duties-and sometimes, Jessie, I am dreadfully afraid that when my darling comes to heaven's gate at last, and her Father asks, 'My child, did you give your heart to me down on the earth?' my poor child will have to say, ' O Lord, I always meant to;-I was just going to when the pale angel took me away.'

would have to say,- Inasmuch as you did it not.

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The last words sank to a whisper, and Jessie felt hot tears dropping on her head.

She sank down on her knees and prayed earnestly,

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O Lord Jesus, please cure me of my naughty fault. Make me do right the first minute, without waiting to be just going to. Dear heavenly Father, take my heart now, for Christ's sake. Amen."

No Repentance No Peace.

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AVE you ever heard of the great clock of St. Paul's in London? At mid-day, in the roar of business, when carriages, and carts, and waggons, and omnibusses go rolling through the streets, how many never hear that great clock strike unless they live very near it! But when the work of the day is over, and the roar of business has passed away-when men are gone to sleep, and silence reigns in London-then, at twelve, at one, at two, at three, at four, the sound of that clock may be heard for miles around. Twelve !

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-One!-Two - Three !-Four! How that clock is heard by many a sleepless man! That clock is just like the conscience of the impenitent man. While he has health and strength, and goes on in the whirl of business, he will not hear his conscience. He drowns and silences its voice by plunging into the world. He will not allow the inner man to speak to him. But the day will come when conscience will be heard, whether he likes it or not. The day will come when its voice will sound in his ears, and pierce him like a sword. The time will come when he must retire. from the world, and lie down on the sick-bed, and look death in the face. And then the clock of conscience, that solemn clock, will sound in his heart, and, if he has not repented, will bring wretchedness and misery to his soul. Oh, no! write it down in the tablets of your heart-without repentance, no peace !-J. C. Ryle.

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Varieties.

WHAT A TRIFLE MAY HIDE.

A little boy held a sixpence near his eye and

God, and Christ, and judgment and eternity, from view, behind some paltry

said, "O mother! it is big-pleasure, some trifling joy,

ger than the room!" and when he drew it still nearer he exclaimed, "O mother! it is bigger than all out-doors!" And in just that way the worldling hides.

or small possession which shall perish with the using, and pass away with all earth's lusts and glory, in the approaching day of God Almighty.

Memoir.

JOHN ROGERS, OF WORLE.

BY THE REV. J. A. WATTS.

JOHN ROGERS was born at Worle, on August 29, 1854. From a child he gave evidence of more than ordinary thoughtfulness and seriousness of character, and was much respected and beloved by those who knew him. His teacher at the Sabbath-school and the Superintendent were both much attached to him, and often spoke very highly of him. It was not, however, until a few months before his death that he gave outward signs of decided religious convictions.

He was regular in his attendance at the house of God, and his behaviour there was such as many of our young people of both sexes would do well to imitate. During the three-and-a-half years that I knew him, I never remember seeing him mis-behave himself during divine service. I hope all the readers the "Hive, will study to be like him in this.

John was present at the service at our chapel, Worle, on the evening of the first Sabbath of 1872. After the sermon, I announced the usual Covenant Service to take place that evening, and having explained its nature, invited all who were the Lord's people, or who desired to be so, to stay and enter into solemn covenant with God. John remained, taking his seat in the pews with such a very thoughtful expression of face and manner that my attention was particularly attracted to him. After the service was over he left the chapel without my having an opportunity of speaking to him, and as he was learning a trade at a village two or three miles from Worle, and was only home on Sunday, my intercourse with him was very limited indeed.

In a week or two after the year commenced, he was plaeed, temporarily in charge of a class at the Sunday

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