“This happy state of my husband's “mind hushed my forrows, and I never “once murmured; nay, I fat down to “dinner with a degree of cheerfulness, "endeavouring to caft all our care on "Him that careth for us.' We had "begged to stay till the next morning, as "Sunday was not the day on which we "liked to remove; but we were ordered "not to sleep another night in that house; “so as we had little to carry, we marched "off in the evening to the poor lodging "we had before occupied.

The thought

cheerfully re

"that my husband had "nounced his little all for confcience fake

gave an unfpeakable ferenity to my "mind; and I felt thankful, that though “caft down we were not forfaken: nay, "I felt a lively gratitude to God that, "while I doubted not he would accept "this little facrifice, as it was heartily "made for his fake, he had graciously for"borne to call us to greater trials.”

"And

"And fo you were turned adrift once "more? Well, ma'am, faving your pre"fence, I hope you won't be fuch a fool "to fay all was for the beft now.""Yes, Betty, He who does all things well, 66 now made his kind Providence more "manifeft than ever. That very night, "while we were fweetly fleeping in our <c poor lodging, the pretty cottage out of "which we were fo unkindly driven, was "burned to the ground by a flash of light"ning, which caught the thatch, and fo CC completely confumed the whole little

building, that had it not been for that "merciful Providence who thus over"ruled the cruelty of the farmer for the "prefervation of our lives, we must have "been burned to afhes with the house.

It was the Lord's doing, and it was "marvellous in our eyes.'- O that men "would therefore praise the Lord for his "goodness, and for all the wonders that he doeth for the children of men!'

"" I will

*

ઃઃ

"this alms-house. Here my cares are at "an end, but not my duties."-" Now you are wrong again," interrupted Mrs. Betty, " your duty is now to take care of yourfelf; for I am fure you have nothing "to fpare."" There you are mistaken, again," faid Mrs. Simpfon.

66

People "are fo apt to fancy that money is all in "all, that all the other gifts of Providence "are overlooked as things of no value. "I have here a great deal of leifure; a

66

good part of this I devote to the wants of "those who are more diftreffed than my"felf. I work a little for the old, and I "inftruct the young. My eyes are good; "this enables me to read the Bible either "to those whofe fight is decayed, or who "were never taught to read. I have tole"rable health; fo that I am able occafion

66

ally to fit up with the fick; in the inter"vals of nurfing, I can pray with them. "In my younger days I thought it not "much to fit up late for my pleasure: fhall "I now think much of fitting up now and

"then

"then to watch by a dying bed? My "Saviour waked and watched for me in "the garden and on the mount; and shall "I do nothing for his fuffering members? "It is only by keeping his fufferings in "view that we can truly practise charity "to others, or exercise self-denial to our"felves."

"Well," faid Mrs. Betty, "I think if I "had lived in fuch genteel life as you have "done, I could never be reconciled to an "alms-house; and I am afraid I should "never forgive any of those who were the "cause of fending me there, particularly "that Farmer Thomas who turned you "out of doors."

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Betty," faid Mrs. Simpfon, "I not "only forgive him heartily, but I remem"ber him in my prayers, as one of those

inftruments with which it has pleased "God to work for my good. Oh! never

put off forgiveness to a dying bed! When "people come to die, we often see how

"the

"the confcience is troubled with fins, of "which before they hardly felt the exist

ence. How ready are they to make "reftitution of ill-gotten gain; and this "perhaps for two reafons; from a feeling "conviction that it can be of no ufe to "them where they are going, as well as from a near view of their own refponfibility. "We also hear from the most hardened, of "death-bed forgiveness of enemies. Even "malefactors at Tyburn forgive.

But

why muft we wait for a dying bed to "do what ought to be done now? Be"lieve me, that fcene will be fo full of "terror and amazement to the foul, that "we had not need load it with unneceffary "bufiness."

Juft as Mrs. Simpfon was faying these words, a letter was brought her from the minifter of the parifh where the farmer lived, by whom Mr. Simpson had been turned out of his cottage. The letter was as follows:

"MADAM,