Poetry.

IS THERE NO ROOM IN THE ANGEL LAND? A SHORT time since, the writer listened to an interesting discourse by a Methodist preacher, in which he related the following touching incident: A mother who was preparing some flour to bake into bread, left it for a few moments, when little Mary, with childish curiosity to see what it was, took hold of the dish, which fell to the floor, spilling the contents. The mother struck the child a severe blow, saying, with anger, that she was always in the way. Two weeks after, little Mary sickened and died. On her death-bed, while delirious, she asked her mother if there would be room for her among the angels. "I was always in your way, mother-you had no room for little Mary! And will I be in the angel's way?" The broken-hearted mother then felt no sacrifice too great, could she have saved her child.

Is there no room among the angels

For the spirit of your child?
Will they take your little Mary

In their loving arms so mild?
Will they ever love me fondly
As my story-books have said?
Will they find a home for Mary-
Mary numbered with the dead?
Tell me truly, darling mother,

Is there room for such as me?
Will I gain the home of spirits,
And the shining angels see?

I have sorely tried you, mother—
Been to you a constant care;
And you will not miss me, mother,
When I dwell among the fair;
For you have no room for Mary,

She was ever in your way,

And she fears the good will shun her; Will they, darling mother, say? Tell me tell me truly, mother,

Ere life's closing hour doth come, Do you think that they will keep me, In the shining angel's home?

I was not so wayward, mother,
Not so very, very bad,

But that tender love would nourish,
And make Mary's heart so glad.
Oh! I yearned for pure affection
In this world of bitter woe;
And I longed for bliss immortal

In that land where I must go.
Tell me once again, dear mother,
Ere you take the parting kiss,
Will the angels bid me welcome
To that world of perfect bliss ?

WHAT MAKES A MAN?

A TRUTHFUL Soul, a loving mind;
Full of affection for its kind;
A spirit firm, erect, and free,
That never basely bends a knee;
That truly speaks from God within;
That never makes a league with sin :
That snaps the fetters despots make,
And loves the truth for its own sake;
That worships God, and Him alone,
And bows no more than at His throne ;
And trembles at no tyrant's nod;
A soul that fears no one but God,
And thus can smile at curse or ban-
This is the soul that makes a man.

Alfred and the Orphan.

LFRED the Great began to reign in 871, exactly one thousand years ago. He was born when his country was involved in the greatest ignorance, and when learning was considered a reproach. One day his step-mother was reading a book of Saxon poems, and she promised to give it to any one of the princes who would learn to read it. Alfred only at

tempted it, and he succeeded. This led him to delight in learning, in which he afterwards greatly excelled. Amid many excellencies by which he was distinguished, the principal was his earnest piety. Good himself, he laboured hard to make others good. Some of his last advices to his son have been preserved, and deserve to be studied as well as admired, for their touching simplicity, genuine piety, and political wisdom. "My son," said he, "I feel my hour is coming; my countenance is wan; we must now part; I shall go to another world, and thou shalt be left alone in all my wealth. I pray thee strive to be a father to thy people. Be thou the children's father and the widow's friend. Comfort the poor and shelter the weak, and with all thy might right that which is wrong; and son, govern thyself by law, then shall the Lord love thee, and God himself shall be thy reward. Call thou upon Him to advise thee in all thy need, and He shall help thee the better to compass that which thou woulds't." We have already occupied our space, so that we will write again about this great and good man, and then explain the cut connected with this article. We conclude by one of Alfred's sayings, shewing that as a true friend of religion, he was also a friend of true freedom. "It is just that the English should ever be free as their own thoughts." We may add that "Whom the Son maketh free, they are free indeed."

T.B

Ruth Lee and her Little Friends.

head and said;

HE bell had just isummoned the girls into school; they had taken their seats, and the roll was being called.

"Ruth Lee!' " said Miss Gray, the teacher.

There was no answer, and, without looking up from the book, she repeated: "Ruth Lee!"

Hearing no response, she raised her

"This is very strange. Ruth has not been absent before this term; and so near the examination, too. I am very sorry. Ella May, I wish you would call at Ruth's this noon, and find out why she failed to come."

And Ella, being Ruth's particular friend, willingly undertook the errand.

When she rang the bell, and her friend's little sister, Minnie, opened the door, Ella asked gaily :

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"Why, where was Ruth this morning? Is she at home? I want to see her."

But Minnie stepped before her, held up her finger warningly, and answered:

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Ruth is very sick, Ella."

"Sick!" exclaimed Ella, in a startled whisper.

"Ruth

Just then Mrs. Lee came down stairs, and to the door. "Yes," said she, in reply to Ella's troubled face; is very ill. The doctor thinks she is going to have scarlet fever; and I want you not to come here until we know positively."

"But may not I see her now? Just look through the crack of the door at her one minute?" pleaded Ella, with the tears springing into her eyes.

"I am afraid not, Ella," said Mrs. Lee.

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If you should