my little book. Oh, that I had an angel's voice, t rouse her to a sense of what she is and what she might be to make her feel that she is not her own, but bought with a price, such a price as the world could not have paid;—that a soul which must exist for ever and ever that a soul for which a God bled, agonized, and died-is a thing too noble, a thing too precious to be thrown away at Vanity Fair.

e might vn, but

uld not

er and d, and

to be

CHAPTER XVI.

HE Sabbath came, God's holy day, a family attended a church which was a little distance. Mr. and Mrs. Hope an daughter, the ladies arrayed in all the dour of fashion, went in state in the carriage, wi footmen in attendance, while the boys preferred ing over the fields with their tutor.

Ernest, as he entered the church, drew the the whole congregation upon himself, which ma more uncomfortable than ever. "Am I not to even here from Vanity Fair?" thought he; even these walls shut out the world!"

Straight in front of the seat which he occupied marble monument of singular beauty, which na attracted his attention. It represented the figu very lovely babe, sleeping amongst water-lilies, t tude and countenance depicting the peaceful slu

After service was over, Clementina took a fancy-for she was always governed by fancies-to walk home with her cousins instead of driving with her parents. She therefore pursued the path across the fields with Ernest, whilst Charles and his tutor walked a little way behind.

"I was so much diverted at church," said the young lady, in the flippant manner which she mistook for wit, "I was so much diverted to see you looking so seriously at the inscription upon your own monument. It was so funny, I could hardly help bursting out laughing, only that would have been very improper, you know."

"The inscription made me feel anything but inclined to laugh," observed Ernest.

Well, I would give the world," had th belonged to Clementina, she would have given ten times a-day, "I would give the world to kn you were thinking when you read those fine ver yourself."

"I was thinking whether it would indeed ha happier for me to have died when I was a lit before I had known anything of the world and

"Oh, dear me ! those are the dreadful, gloomy which you get from your horrid, methodistical t Clementina, I will not hear him spoken of manner," said Ernest, with a decision of tone w young lady had never heard him make use of She was either offended, or thought it pretty to for stopping as they reached a very low stile, sh to Charles to help her over it. She wished Ernest, and raise a feeling of jealousy toward his but she was successful in neither of her des Ernest very contentedly turned back to Mr. Ew left the fair lady to pursue her walk with the cor whom she had chosen.

"I am so sorry for you, dear Charles!" said Cler in a voice rather more affected than usual; dreadful to be turned out of your right by a low creature like that."

feelings, and high principles; and as for being vulgar, a boy who thinks so much, and upon such subjects as he does, can never, as Mr. Ewart said to me once, have a vulgar mind."

“I find him intolerably dull," said Clementina.

"I am sorry for it," was her cousin's dry reply. Clementina was now offended with Charles in his turn, and had there been a third party less unmanageable than Mr. Ewart, she would doubtless have chosen him to accompany her, in the delightful hope of annoying both her cousins. The silly girl was almost unconsciously forming a plan to separate the brothers, and