know you! I am so bad; what shall I do?" I said, "What has brought you to this state of pain and sorrow?" She turned to the woman I mentioned, and said, "Tell her all; tell the lady all you know about me." The woman endeavoured to do as required, but deep emotion prevented, and large tears fell in abundance from her eyes. "I will try and tell you myself," she continued. I said, "Is not sin at the root of all? I am not come to upbraid you, or to say, Stand aside, for I am holier than thou,' but I am anxious to speak to you of those things that concern your soul, for your time seems short." "I know all you intend is kind, maʼam, and I know I shall soon die, so I must tell you all about myself. I was for four years," she continued, "a teacher in the chapel Sunday school, and so was he; but I fell away, and then he forsook me. Oh! I was so sorry for my sin and shame. After a time I hoped to be forgiven, and again received into the congregation; but all turned from me; I prayed them to try me again, but they passed by me, and did not believe me sincerely penitent; but I was, indeed I was; I asked for only one trial more, but they quite turned away from me," she said. "I am not sure that I have spoken one word of truth to-day till now, for my poor head has been very wandering; but it is clear now, and I wish to tell you all. After they refused to receive me again at the chapel, I took to dress and bad companions; and this is my end, well and dying in three days-just twenty-four years old. One thing more I wish to tell you, and it is this—I have never known one moment of happiness excepting those spent with the people of God; all else has been misery." I asked her if she knew where to look now in her extremity, and when forsaken by all. "Yes," she said, "to Jesus. There is no hope for a sinner like me but in His long-suffering mercy. I asked, "Do you not fear to think of Him?" "No; my books are in that box, which tell me He is not like man." I said, "For which are you most sorry, your present disgrace and pain, or your sin against a just, yet merciful and holy God?" "My sin, O my sin! This is my death-bed, and I speak the truth." I inquired if Mr. C should

be asked to come up and pray with her? With an earnestness and a look I shall never forget, she answered, "That is the desire of my soul." Her desire was complied with; and during the time spent in prayer she was perfectly quiet, though the changes in her countenance proved but too surely her agony of body. All about her was clean, though very poverty-stricken. Her eye was bright, and a flush, produced by pain, was on her cheek; there was nothing in her appearance that denoted the sad life she had led. After a few words to the poor young woman, I descended the ladder, and then found myself in the presence of the wicked mother, in whom I recognized a servant once living in our family. "Mise

rable woman!" I said, "how will you answer at the judgment-day for the example you have set your wretched children? Your heart should be broken to hear the groans of that poor victim above." She said, "I know I have plenty to answer for, and my state will be bad enough." The woman whom I mentioned told me, D. C. had been a wonder to the village in the former part of her history: and for this reason; that the mother was most infamous in all respects, and it was believed she had driven her poor child into dress and sin. The young woman lived till the morning. "Oh!" she said, "that I could redeem my character; mine has all been misery, but I forgive the authors of it, as I hope God, for Christ's sake, will forgive me my load of sin!"

Dear young friends, let this sad, yet true account, make you fear to venture out of your station; for if you do, the next thing is to overstep the bounds of modesty, if the passion for dress and show cannot be indulged in any other way. How true was that remark of poor D.C., "Christ is not like man!" No, indeed He is not, for no returning sinner would have been forsaken by Him. Hear the Lord Himself saying, "How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? How shall I deliver thee, Israel? Mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together. I will not execute the fierceness of mine anger, I will not return to destroy Ephraim: for I am God and not man; the Holy One in the midst of thee." Who can say what effect Christian sympathy

and faithful admonition might have had upon poor D. C., a sad wanderer, it is true, upon the dark mountains of sin! Yet there seems a pause in her history, when those Christians, who had known her before, ought to have endeavoured to recover her again to the paths of virtue and of peace. Let us remember the least sin may, unawares, and by degrees, draw us into many others, so that we may at last be entangled in such a manner, that, without great watchfulness, it will be impossible to extricate ourselves; therefore we must flee all sin. If we indulge in any degree of improper conformity to the world, we so far give Satan the advantage over us. us not be high-minded, for fear of falling: may we never be left in the least thing to our own strength, but may we be held up in all our goings by Christ Jesus, who is our strength, and may He be our portion for ever!

M. B.

GOOD THOUGHTS IN THE MIDST OF BUSINESS.

Let

It is one of the great faults in human nature to suppose that attention to one duty is an excuse for neglecting another. People who have their families or their business to attend to are very apt to say, "I am so busy, I have no time to think about religion." Now, sure enough, worldly business has a tendency to put good thoughts out of the mind; and yet, if we try sincerely, we may generally find room to think of something good, without driving out necessary attention to our common duties; indeed, full employment is a fine remedy against idle and mischievous thoughts, and one evil thought hinders religion more than ten busy ones. Some good old writer says, "The grand secret to prevent bad thoughts is to have plenty of employment: an empty house is every body's property; all the vagrants in the country will take up their quarters in it; always, therefore, have something to do, and then you will always have something to think of." Such were the remarks of good Mr. Sutton to one of the neighbours, who said she never had a minute to look into a good book, or, indeed, to bestow a thought upon religion. "Besides," he observed, "when employed in that with which we have by habit become very familiar,

1848.] GOOD THOUGHTS IN THE MIDST OF BUSINESS. 405

we may do it well and quickly without giving it all our thoughts. A weaver in his loom, a carpenter at his bench, a mother with her babe in her arms, or while sewing or knitting, often sing a song without hindering their work, or diverting their attention from it. Now the words of that song might as well express sense as nonsense,—had much better be the language of heartfelt devotion than of profanity or indecency. I knew a good shepherd, who said he had always learned by heart a verse of Scripture at breakfast time, which served him to meditate upon through the day; and so rich was the treasure of Scripture thus laid up in his mind in the course of a long life, that the neighbours used to call him a walking Bible. I suppose you could scarcely name a passage of Scripture but he could take it up and go on with the connexion, and that in such a way as proved that he not only recollected the words of Scripture, but relished its sweetness. The word of Christ dwelt in him richly in all wisdom; it was to him the joy and rejoicing of his heart, and it seasoned his conversation with the salt of heavenly wisdom, and rendered it profitable to those who heard it. In like manner, I knew a weaver, who used to have a hymn-book or a testament lying open on his loom, which afforded him many a refreshing thought. I have often, with pleasure, observed a poor shoemaker hearing his children their Catechism and hymns while sewing away at his last and a mother of a family always kept in her pocket "Mason's Select Remains," or some other little book of the same kind, which she could look at a minute or two while she was lulling her baby to sleep. These examples show what may be done by trying; and at least no one should rest satisfied in having no time for good thoughts who ever admits a thought of vanity or folly. Those who sincerely try will find it much easier than they imagined, and still more refreshing and delightful than easy, to raise a thought to God and heavenly things, while the hands are busy for earth. Even if we are surrounded by bustle and clamour, it is not quite impossible to raise a secret thought in prayer,-like Nehemiah, when handing the cup to the king at the royal banquet, and his heart overcharged with care and distress,

'So I prayed to the God of heaven.' Prayer can find its way to God above the heads of the crowd, and none but the holy soul itself see or know what is going forward. A penitent believing heart is always in a fit place and frame for prayer; and a believing prayer is sure to turn the promises of God into performances. The mind of men is never so eagerly disposed to pray, but God is still more ready to give; and those who know the way to the throne of grace will often say, with Melancthon, 'Trouble and perplexity compel me to pray, and prayer drives away perplexity and trouble."From the Family Book. Sent by F. A.

A LITTLE ANECDOTE OF ELIZABETH, THE QUEEN OF

HENRY VII.

Most of our readers have heard of the great battle of Bosworth Field in Leicestershire, where the Earl of Richmond conquered king Richard III., and thus put an end to the long and bloody wars between the houses of York and Lancaster. Richard III. was of the York family, or of the "white rose" party, and was brother to Edward IV. The sons of Edward were murdered in the Tower of London by this Richard, if common history speaks the truth. Then Richard took possession of the throne in the year 1483, and remained king till he was killed at "Bosworth Field." The proper person to possess the throne was Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of the late king Edward, as there were no sons living. But Richmond considered that he had a claim to the crown; but he certainly was not the rightful heir to it. The people, however, seemed greatly to favour him, and were much pleased with his bravery at Bosworth, and with his victory over Richard. The marriage of Richmond with the young Elizabeth put an end to the doubt; and this marriage also united the York and Lancaster parties, and made what was called the union of the roses, as Richmond was of the Lancaster, or red rose party, and Elizabeth was "the white rose of York." This Elizabeth was an excellent lady, and, it seems, gave away large sums of money to those who were in need, so that she often got to the end of her allowance, and