One night, after some irregularity caused by lovers' quarrel, and the consequent restlessness, which sought relief in pleasure, she was representing to me the consequences of such habits of dissipation, as tenderly as she could, and I was moved by her earnestness to tears. She followed up her advantage, and throwing herself upon her knees before me, she wept, herself, in sobs, for some moments. Then raising her tearful eyes, she begged, she implored, she entreated me, to change my course of life; not to bring ruin upon us both; not to blight our prospects, by such cruel neglect of every honorable pursuit. She seemed to feel that every thing depended upon me; she saw me on the brink of a precipice; she exerted eloquence that might have drawn tears from a statue; and I was earnest, that night, in my resolutions, as I laid my head upon my pillow. But I did not ask assistance from God; and herein lay my error. I have since found, that all resolutions are futile and useless, unless we confirm and strengthen them by prayer. The very exercise of prayer is its own answer. Prostration of ourselves before God produces a calm and dispassionate frame of mind, and a sense of our accountability. As our thoughts, in such seasons, dwell upon the truth of an eternal existence, the world and its vanities recede, and appear in their true insignificance. We then are prepared to take the first steps in goodness. Who that has passed out of a life of vice into a life of virtue, ever turns back? The first step is the important one. Let that be taken, in good faith, and each succeeding one opens wider and wider the peace of the path of virtue. THE BLUE BIRD. SWEET bird! how gladly thy cerulean wing Opens o'er all the loveliness of spring; As thy slow shadow, sailing far on high, Tells me the 'time of birds' is drawing nigh. Perchance the down of that pure azure breast On trees of Italy was lately prest; Or mid the ivy of the crumbled fane, Thy nest was sheltered from the sparkling rain: Till to thy heart a whisper, as from home, Told thee of melting snows, and bade thee 'come!' G. H. DUCHESS DE LA VALLIERE. ''T were best that I should wed! Thou said'st it, Louis; Say it once more! LOUIS. In honesty I think so. DUCHESS. My choice is made, then--I obey the fiat, And will become a bride!' BULWER. * * * * *