"Oh no! that's not the way to do good," said Nancy, eagerly. "The Bible says we're to overcome evil with good,' and not give back railing for railing."

"But what are we to do when we're found fault with for nothing?" asked Bessy, angrily.

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"That ain't often, I believe; but if it does happen it's all put down, and they're words that ought to be taught with A B C to everybody. What glory is it if when ye be buffeted for your faults ye shall take it patiently? but if when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God. For even hereunto were ye called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should follow his steps.'

"Well, to be sure, if ever I heard such a thing! Why, we ought to be angels out and out."

"We'd better try after it, Bessy. The Lord wouldn't set us anything to do that couldn't be done, by the help of his Spirit."

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But, Nancy, why didn't you tell Mrs. Marks you were sorry at once?" asked Bessy, suddenly.

"Because I was proud: the same bad spirit that put me in a passion kept me from speaking to her as I ought, and for a bit I felt evil towards her for setting my temper up ; just as if she could have done it if the mischief hadn't been in me. Well now, what do you think of my bonnet ?” she added, holding it up to view as she put in the last stitch.

"Why, I think you'd better put it on and go round in it to see Mrs. Marks, and you'll be all of a piece, inside and out." But it was nevertheless a fact that Bessy's respect for both bonnet and wearer had involuntarily increased, though she did not choose to show it.

"Well, I shall the first time I get leave out; but my time's up now; here's mother, so good evening, Bessy: you and me ain't properly dressed, you know, till we've got the ornament; let us try hard for it."

"You're an ornament yourself now," cried Bessy, as the young woman quickly tied on the bonnet, fashionable enough in its wearer's eyes, kissed her mother and the baby, and ran smiling away.

Bessy was right; she was a diamond, though at present somewhat unpolished, but a precious "jewel" nevertheless.

Oh for more Nancys to bless the households of the land! Might not more simple Bible teaching, with reference to

position and duty, and its practical bearing on daily life, do something towards such an end?

WHERE ARE THE STARS?

I was walking out this evening, just after sunset, with a child a few years old by my side, who asked me, "Where are the stars? I don't see any." I said to her, "Wait till it is a little darker, and you will see them."

We continued our walk, she clinging fast to my hand. The shades of evening deepened; one by one the stars appeared, and soon, in the darkness of the night, the whole sky was covered with their light and beauty.

As we walked on I fell a musing, and when we returned home the musing still went on as I repeated to my heart, "Wait till it is a little darker, and the light will come.' Often have we heard that "Man's extremity is God's opportunity;" that "when he has humbled us he will exalt us;" that "he will cause light to rise out of obscurity;" and that "the darkest time is just before day." And many a poor, weary, troubled soul has found in his own experience, that from the verge of despair the blessedness of hope has sprung. When all other help had failed him, God had been his help and Saviour. But we are very slow to get the comforts of these promises and proverbs in advance. After the stars have come out bright, and the sky is radiant with glory, we admire it, and wonder at our own want of faith before. Like the child who did not know where the stars were when she could not see them, we do not know where light, and peace, and joy are to come from when we are in trouble. Well, we must wait till it is a little darker. We have not had trial enough yet. We must fret and worry about the future; we must see the country, and our business, and our property going to ruin; we must be perplexed and distressed on every side, and cast down, and nearly destroyed; perhaps we must actually suffer by hunger, and nakedness, and the sword: but when it is a little darker, the stars will appear.

The

Lord will provide. Our food and raiment will come. The day of peace and prosperity will return. The voice of the turtle will be heard in the land. Zion will arise and shine. And the days of our mourning will be ended. Only let us learn to wait in patience, and hope for God's own appointed time.

OPPOSITE CHARACTERS.

Ir is very instructive to observe the fitness of opposite qualities for different circumstances. A person who appears to great disadvantage in one place, acquits himself to his honour in another. Perhaps no two sisters were ever more unlike than Martha and Mary of Bethany. The former was a stirring, bustling, resolute, and perhaps irritable woman. The latter was modest, quiet, diffident, and amiable. When Jesus visited them at their home, both welcomed him with glad hearts. Martha was inclined to prepare the meal, while Mary was more disposed to talk with her Lord. But the former became weary and irritated about her housework, while the latter sat meek and lowly at the feet of Jesus. How greatly to her disadvantage did Martha appear, when she yielded to the leading elements of her character, and rushed into the presence of Christ, saying, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.". "Passionate woman!" we are ready to exclaim; and as we turn away to Mary, she seems more lovely than ever.

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But now behold them in different circumstances. At a later period, their brother Lazarus died, and the Saviour visited them in their sorrow. Martha was calm, and went out to meet Jesus as he approached the house. She was so composed that she could converse about her deceased brother, and thus appeared well. The elements of her character fitted her to pass through such a scene more calmly than Mary. But Mary was too much overwhelmed with grief to leave the house. She did not make her appearance till Christ sent for her, and then she could only say, prostrating herself at his feet, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." Her gentle spirit was well nigh crushed under the sorrow. We can almost see the workings of an unreconciled feeling in her heart. Martha exhibits much more Christian fortitude and submission to the severe dispensation. And Christ appears to have recognised this difference of character. For to Martha he discoursed for her comfort; but to Mary he brought a fountain of tears. As he looked upon her at his feet, convulsed with agony, he had no words suited to her case. He stood speechless, and "WEPT." Martha found consolation in his words-Mary in his tears.

WHEN Jesus Christ was on earth he warned his disciples that the effect of his gospel would often be to create divisions in families-that there would be "five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three;" adding that "the father should be divided against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law."

NOVEMBER, 1863

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It was so in our old farmhouse at the time of which I am writing, except, indeed, that instead of there being "three against two, and two against three," all were against one dear, timid, and yet brave young disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Poor cousin Bertha had no peace allowed her when it was known that she was "religious." Her uncle had said that he would soon put a stop to such nonsense; and he tried hard, first by coaxing, then by downright angry scolding, to drive these new notions out of Bertha's head. Her aunt got possession of her Bible, and locked it up in a cupboard, "for fear," as she said, "that it should turn more brains than hers." Bertha's cousins sometimes tried to laugh her out of her folly, as they called it; and sometimes, when they were in good humour, and felt some of their old affection return, endeavoured to persuade her to give up her methodism. All this Bertha bore with patience; but it did not separate her from the love of Christ.

I have said that Bertha had "no peace allowed her;" and this is true in the sense in which I said it. But in another and a far higher sense, she had very much peace. "Great peace have they who love thy law; and nothing shall offend them." "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you," said Christ. And this peace Bertha had.

One of Bertha's cousins was touched with her patience and meekness, and felt that she was not so kindly treated as she ought to have been. One day, this boyish cousin ventured a remonstrance against the persecutions to which Bertha was exposed. But being a hot-headed, warm-tempered, passionate youth, he probably spoke unadvisedly and disrespectfully.

"I see how it is going to be," said his father; we shall have nothing but wrangling and jangling now that Bertha has taken to these notions; and I will put an end to it before worse comes."

That evening, when he came home from market, and was smoking his pipe, my father sent for Bertha.

"Had you not better wait till to-morrow?" said my mother, who knew by experience that her husband was always somewhat excited on his return from market, and was sometimes in a humour which not even his pipe could soothe.