their somewhat dangerous game, while we pass on to our next picture.

Our next picture is a prison scene. You know that a prison is a strong building for

putting people into who have disobeyed the laws of the country. Such persons are put into prison as a punishment for their crimes,

and to prevent them from doing more mischief, which they would be likely to do if allowed to go free. It is a sad thing that prisons should be needed at all; and still more sad that they should be needed in a country like ours, where we have God's blessed word, and where so many faithful servants of God are willing to teach poor sinners the way to be holy, and useful, and happy, instead of being mischievous, wicked, and miserable. Sure we are, that if every person were to obey the laws of God, as they are given to us in the Bible, there would be no need of prisons. Let us hope that the time may soon come when all the prisons in England will be turned into schools or almshouses, because there is no further need of them as prisons. And let us try not only to obey the laws of God and man ourselves, but to persuade others to obey them also. Even a little child may do good in this way.

Now let us look at our picture. It is one of the rooms in a prison; and a dreary

looking place it is. The walls are built of large stones; and the floor is paved with stones. The narrow window is high up, near the ceiling, so that it is not possible to look out, or to see anything except the sky; and thick iron bars are placed across and across it, to prevent the poor prisoner from escaping. There are no cheerful-looking ornaments in the room; and all the furniture it contains is a strong table and chair, which seem to be fastened to the floor. We cannot see the whole of the room, so we may, if we please, suppose that the side of it which is out of sight contains an iron bedstead for the prisoner to sleep on at night.

Is there any person in this prison room? Oh, yes; seated in the chair is a young man, whose looks speak for him, and tell us that he is very unhappy. A book lies before him on the table; but he does not heed it: his thoughts are far, far away. His eyes are fixed upon the narrow and guarded window; and his hands are clasped together very

tightly. Fetters are on his legs; but it is not the fetters nor the prison that have broken his spirit. Holy men have been happy in prison, and sung praises to God at midnight, when their feet were fast in the stocks, and their bodies sore with stripes: but then they knew they were unjustly punished, and that God approved them though men persecuted them. The prisoner in our picture has deserved his punishment; and this makes him unhappy.

What has he been doing? The picture does not tell us this. Perhaps he has been dishonest, and taken what was not his own; or he may have tried to take away the life of a fellow-creature. Whatever his crime has been, we may be almost certain that it was not the first crime of the sort that he had committed. People do not all at once become so wicked. There was a time when that young man was a child, and not able to tell the difference between right and wrong. When he grew older it is not unlikely that a

dear mother taught him that it was sinful to take the smallest thing that was not his own,

or to speak an angry word to his sisters and brothers. But, as he grew older, he forgot or despised these instructions: he pilfered little things that he coveted, or put himself into bad passions, clenched his little fists, and struck angry blows when any of his playfellows offended him. Then, when he grew

up, he became hardened in his crimes, until he has brought himself into this dismal place.

What is he thinking about? We can guess what such a person as we have described would think about when brought into such circumstances as our picture represents. He would, most likely, think of his happy home when he was a little child; of his parents and his young companions; of the free air and warm sunshine that he once enjoyed; of the instructions he once received. And we may fancy that we hear him say, "How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof, and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined