every stone, drew him to a spot commanding the entire landscape.  The tide was up, and the sun was shining on the deep blue waters, and bathing the distant mountains and the green meadows in liquid gold.  The gardens and orchards around were gay in the rich crimson blossoms of the apple tree; the air was filled with the sweet fragrance of flowers, and the birds were singing beautifully, when little Bertie looked for the last time on the scenes of earth.  He could not remain long, and was soon taken back to the little parlor, where he sat on the sofa, resting his elbows on the table.  It was not long before the little boy died.  But he was very happy.  Among his last words were these, addressed to his little sister three years old:  “Well, Emmie, very ill—­me going to Jesus.”  “Oh, mamma, Emmie loves her Saviour.”

THE BOY AND THE GOLD ROBIN.

A bright eyed boy was sleeping upon a bank of blossoming clover.  The cool breeze lifted the curls from his brow, and fanned with downy wings his quiet slumbers, while he lay under the refreshing shade of a large maple tree.  The birds sang to him during his happy hours of sleep.  By and by he awoke, and a beautiful gold robin sat on the spray, and sung a song of joy.  The boy reached out his hands to secure the prize, but the robin spread his golden wings and soared away.  He looked after it with a longing gaze, and when it disappeared from his sight, he wept aloud.  At this moment, a form of light approached, and took the hands of the child and pointed upwards; and he saw the bird soaring in freedom and the sun shining upon its burnished plumes.  Then the shining one said; “Do you love that beautiful bird?” In the midst of his tears the child replied, “Oh, yes.”  “Then,” said the angel, “shall it not wing its flight from flower to flower and be happy, rather than to dwell in a prison with thee?” Then the streams and flowering vales of Elysium, that breathe the pure air of freedom, spake:  “Wouldst thou bring her back to thee, and make her a prisoner?  Dry up thy tears, and let thy song be, ’Stay not here, but speed thy flight, O bright one, and snuff the mellow air of freedom.’  God made the birds to be happy in their short existence, and ought we to deprive them of their own elements of happiness, and take from them the freedom which they enjoy?”

THE WAY TO OVERCOME EVIL.

A little girl, by the name of Sarah Dean, was taught the precepts of the Bible by her mother.  One day she came to her mother very much delighted, to show her some plums that a friend had given her.  The mother said to her:  “Your friend was very kind, and has given you a great many.”  “Yes,” replied Sarah, “she was, and she gave me more than these, but I have given some away.”  The mother asked to whom she had given them; when the child replied:  “I gave them to a girl that pushes me off the path, and