a violent spirit, and Sir Richard was so foolishly fond of her, that he denied her nothing. Once when some one had opposed her, she ran a penknife into her arm, to the great danger of her life. Most likely the Justice recollected this, and believed she would really try to drown or hurt herself in some way so he went into the hall, and said, "I had made out your mittimus to send you all to jail, as you deserve; but at my grandchild's request I set you at liberty." They bowed and thanked him; but Mr. Rogers going to the child, laid his hand upon her head, and, lifting his eyes to heaven, said, "God bless you, my dear child! may the blessing of that God whose cause you did now plead, though as yet you know Him not, be upon you in life, at death, and to all eternity!"

Many years after this, Mr. Timothy Rogers, the son of the persecuted Minister, was relating the above at the house of Mrs. Tooley, a Christian lady, who was well known for her piety, and her great kindness to good people; indeed her house and her table were always open to them. Mrs. Tooley listened most attentively to the interesting story, and then said, "I am the very girl your dear father blessed; and that blessing made an impression upon me which I could never forget."

Guernsey.

ELIZA WEAVER BRADBurn.

A LESSON IN DOING GOOD.

I was a rude boy, and very fond of play. Every moment when out of school was given to some sport

or other, and anything which stopped me in my games was borne with an ill-temper.

One day at tea, my mother directed me to take a small basket of food and some wood to a poor woman in a distant part of the village; charging me to go at once, as she was sick and in great want. It was winter, and the ponds were covered with ice. While securing in a little basket my mother's gift, a group of schoolmates came along, on their way to the mill-pond to slide. They called for me, and said they should have fine sport. "Come, Charley!" they cried: " we are all waiting for you-come along!"

I cannot go now," I replied: "I've got to take these things down to widow Long's."

"You would not catch me doing such business as that," said one: "I let people carry their own wood!"

"O!" said another, "you have plenty of time to slide and do that too."

Little did I need urging: so, leaving the wood and basket, we were soon sliding on the pond.

The evening came on; it was moonlight, and the crusted snow shone like silver. There were many men and boys enjoying the sport, and the air rang with merry shouts as skaters swiftly glided about and the sliders tripped one another up.

At first conscience smote me for my selfish pleasure-seeking; for my mother's strict charge told me that it might be at the cost of another's suffering. This, however, was soon forgotten in the excuse that a few minutes did not matter, and

in the joy of the occasion the village-clock struck nine. It was then too late to go on the errand: so, burrying home, I crept softly to bed, not caring to meet my parents.

At breakfast next morning my mother said to "Well, Charles, how did you find Mrs. Long, last night?"

me,

My cheeks became quite red, and I made no

answer.

When the truth was known, I shall never forget the look of pain with which it was received.

"O!" my mother cried, "what may not that poor woman have suffered from your neglect! Gladly would I have gone myself, rather than left her to it."

Then, adding to the store of good things, she hurried me away. It was, however, no welcome task to me. I was not happy, and was ready to blame the poor for being poor, and thus giving others trouble. How colder than all other mornings seemed that, as I went on the forced mission of mercy! The cottage was at length reached: it was an old hut, with broken windows.

"Does widow Long live here?" I asked of a strange-looking man who came to the door.

"Yes; first door at the right hand, at the head of the stairs."

Those narrow, rickety stair-cases: how plainly I seem to see them now!

Rapping at the door, a feeble voice said, "Come in!" I entered, and what a scene! All alone, on her lowly, thinly-covered cot, lay the aged woman,

helpless from pain and age, with no food, no fire, and the snow, driven by the winds through the loose windows, had fallen on the floor. This was a new scene to me, brought up, as I had been, in the midst of plenty. My heart was deeply touched.

"Here are some things my mother sent you," said I, showing the basket.

"O, thank the Lord!" she said, lifting her hands in deep feeling. "How good He is to raise me up such a friend! and how kind your mother is to send these things! And I need them so much just now! But our heavenly Father knows what we need, and the best time to give it to us. Last night I lay here so cold and faint, without food, and no one to help. It seemed as if I should starve. But I called on my Saviour, and late in the evening, the man who lives below, a poor drinking man, came in with some wood, and made me up a fire, and got me a good bowl of porridge. He could not do much for me, he is so poor himself; but it was so strange that he should do it! O, it was the Lord's doings, and I praise Him for it!"

"I have brought some wood for you, too," said I; "and it is at the door : let me get it, and make you a fire."

"Thank you! thank you!"

That scene of poverty and piety had wrought a sudden change in my feelings, and I hastened for the wood, with mingled emotions of self-reproach for my hard-hearted neglect, and joy in being able to do anything for one so pious and so needy. That face-calm, trustful, grateful, even amid the

sufferings of dying old age and the discomfort of the gloomy chamber-beamed on me like a star amid thick darkness.

As the fire threw its faint warmth over the room, the aged woman called me to her bed-side, to thank me again and again for what I had done. "I cannot reward you,” said she, with falling tears; "but God can." Then she prayed-O, how fervently!-that I might "grow up to be a pious man, and through faith in Jesus Christ become an heir of heaven." Is it strange if the prayer of such a one, at such a time, moved the soul of the wayward boy? Never, in after-life, could he listen to the tale of want without the stirrings of sorrow, and the desire to afford timely relief.-Canada Christian

Guardian.

governess,

OPPORTUNITY.

"Exhort one another daily, while it is called To-day; lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.”—Heb. iii. 13. A LITTLE girl, after a Bible-class, said to her "I want to say something to you;" and seemed anxiously to watch her companions out of the room. The Teacher was far from well, felt wearied, had just concluded her morning's duties, and withal knew that she was wanted elsewhere. Nature would have said, “I have ‘not a minute to spare:' come to me, my dear, another time!" Grace said, "Take up thy cross;" ;" "work while it is called to-day;"

listen to this little child!” Grace prevailed. The Spirit of God had convinced that child of sin.