absence of every -thing that could in the smallest degree have contributed to soften it. On the floor of the room were three or four fowls, evidently as much at home as in a poultryyard; they had indeed no other place of accommodation provided for them. Potatoes in bulk for sale, not in bags or in baskets, but in a heap, were laying in one corner of the room; greens and cabbages in another; while the window, the only aperture in the house by which fresh air could have been admitted, was so garnished with strings of candles, onions, apples, and red-herrings-gingerbread-buttons—and thimbles-that it could not possibly be opened; and those who bought any of these things, or eat them, just carried away so much of the virus, or infection of this malignant fever, with which to inoculate themselves, or their children at home.

I had not been long with this poor woman, you may believe, without speaking to her of the awful things of eternity; the suddenness of death, the certainty of judgment, the necessity of having an interest by faith in the righteousness and atonement of our blessed Redeemer, if we hoped either to live in comfort, or die in peace. While I felt it my duty thus to

speak, thus to awaken, to arouse, and to warn her, I felt it also to be my sweet commission, in my own feeble way, to soothe her troubled spirit-to speak to her of Him in whom the fatherless findeth mercy-whose office it is to bind up the broken hearted-who hath called himself the husband of the widow that putteth her trust in him-who hath said, he will preserve the fatherless children alive-who despiseth not the affliction of the afflicted, but heareth the cry of the destitute.

I left with her, when I came away, a few religious tracts, over which I had already implored a blessing, requesting her to read them, and promising to call again. Some business, however, of importance called me out of town at that time, but not before I had recommended the widow to the notice of a dear friend of mine, by whom she was often visited. She was visited also by the members of a benevolent society in the town; by many of those amiable, but unknown individuals, who, following in the footsteps of their divine Master, go about doing good-who draw out the soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul-who bring in the poor, that are cast out, into their houses-who, when they see

the naked, cover him-who break not the bruised reed-who hide not themselves from their own flesh-whose prayers and alms, perfumed with the incense of the Redeemer's merits and intercession, often ascend in memorial before God-and whose kindness on this occasion, to this poor family, doubtless, had been blessed; for it was evident, not many months after her great afflictions, that the rod had been sanctified to the widow. Like the rod in the hand of the prophet of the Lord, it had brought forth "buds and blossoms," and all the fruit thereof seemed to be to take away sin.

When this afflicted family were, through the kind providence of God, again restored to their usual health, William, the oldest son, was sent to the country to live with his grandfather; Jemmy was put apprentice to a nursery-man, where he learnt to be a gardener; Bob, the little boy, was got into the charity-school, where he received an excellent education; and Lily, as she was obliged to be much at home with her mother, to help to keep the baby who was but sickly, since she could not be often at a school through the

week, was put to a Sabbath school, under the care of some ladies.

Truth obliges me to say, that when Lily first went to school, she was a very rude girl indeed, and very unmannerly. She was in fact "like others," a disobedient child, and attended too little to the directions and instructions which her mother, now that she was become alive to religious impressions, often endeavored to give her in her own simple way at home. As a proof of this, Lily would sometimes go into school, even on the Sabbath, with her face and hands unwashed; her hair in disorder; her tippet unpinned; her bonnet either without strings, or untied, and would never think of brushing her shoes on the mat, or making a curtsey at the door. She would also talk very loud in her class, paying no regard to the holiness of the day, nor any respect to the ladies in the room, because she was then ignorant of the meaning and spirit of that commandment which saith, "Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy;" and of that precept which enjoins "honor to whom honor is due."

In process of time, however, by the persevering labor of her teachers, under the bles

sing of God, Lily greatly improved, not only in her outward appearance and demeanor, but in her temper and character, and this was seen both in her conduct at school, and in her behavior at home. But before I mention those every-day circumstances of life, by which her religious sentiments were evidenced, and by which the real religion of every professing Christian is best ascertained, I shall first relate the simple means which were used, and which we may consider were blessed, for bringing about such a change in this girl; for she was at first, as I have already hinted, what indeed we all are by nature, "disobedient, and a child of wrath even as others."

It happened that some months after Lily had been attending at the Sabbath-school, a certain doctrine was given out for proof. (I need not tell any Sabbath-scholar who may read this book, what that means you all know, my dear children, what is meant by a doctrine given out for proof?) Well, it happened upon this occasion that the doctrine to be proved was that fundamental truth of the Bible, which, in the Catechism, is called the doctrine of original sin.-"What