Son. No such prayer ever was, or can be, addressed to the throne of grace in vain."

"Oh, how astonishing it is, that every one does not begin to pray! Is it not, papa?" said Edwin.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Howard: "it is a very easy condition for the attainment of all good, to ask it from the infinitely gracious and bountiful God. It is the greatest folly to neglect prayer," continued Mr. H.; "for we have innumerable wants, and they may be supplied, if we will ask God to supply them. We have souls of more value than the whole world: they may be saved, if we will ask God to save them. We are exposed to eternal misery by our sins: we may be saved from this ruin, to which we are righteously exposed, if we cry to the hearer and answerer of prayer. We are capable of enjoying infinite blessedness. This felicity may be gained, if we are not strangers to fervent supplication. What folly is it, therefore, to choose to perish, rather than to pray."

"But we have forgot poor George," exclaimed Emma.

No, my dear," said Mr. Wallace: "I hope we shall not forget most earnestly to pray for him."

Mr. Wallace now begged to be excused. And consenting that Emma should stay, he took his leave.

When he was gone, Edwin said, "Papa, the shower is dried up: may we not take a walk in the shrubbery?"

"Oh yes," said Mr. H. "and I will take a walk with you."

It was a very beautiful spot. It consisted of about ten acres of ground, intermingled with beautiful shrubs and fruit-trees. There were many walks in it. It was laid out very tastefully. Here Mr. H. often retired, for the purposes of study or devotion. Here he often repeated the beautiful sentiment,

"The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree;

And seem by thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow thee."

In a retired part of it there was a pretty alcove. It was suitably furnished: there were many little decorations added by Edwin's dear mamma. Mr. H. found a melancholy pleasure in glancing at them. Here also was a small wellchosen library of suitable and useful books. Over the door was a neat inscription, written by Mr. Howard: here is a copy of it.

"Sweet rural scene! serene retreat!

"Sweet rural scene! amid thy bow'rs
Delighted will I stray;

Whilst all my mind's collected pow'rs

Shall meditate and pray.

"Sweet rural scene! each sunny glade
Shall echo with my lays:
And every honeysuckle shade
Be vocal with my praise.

"Sweet rural scene! at eventide,

When moon-beams round me shine;

Oft in thy walks, oh let me glide,
And breathe the vow divine.

"Sweet though thou art, yet I would rise

From thee, and soar away

To brighter scenes beyond the skies,

And an eternal day."

When they were seated in the alcove, Mr. Howard said:

"How beautiful the trees and shrubs look after the rain! Who, but a being who was omnipotent, could water the face of the earth? What immense labour, the other evening, it was to Thomas and John, to water the borders of flowers in the garden and shrubbery. But God, with infinite ease, waters and refreshes the whole earth."

"See, what a fine rainbow," said Emma, "is extended over the face of the heavens!"

G