resents small inconveniences, when they would be ashamed to manifest such a temper on greater occasions.'

'Our spiritual adversary is watchful: He soon discovers when we are unwatchful. Great events and extraordinary trials rouse our attention, and the sense of our weakness under them makes us quickly call upon our strength in the Lord, and prompt to be put into action the grace that we know can meet theoccasion, whilst small temptations steal upon us without observation; and the worst of all is, we are apt to compute small occasions as small and insignificant matters. "It is not a small one?" is frequently the manner in which we justify ourselves, as well as plead for indulgence. Alas! how little does this conduct shew our hearts' experience to be; and the gathering strength of often unchecked tempers, by which too they grow more bold and frequent, and are of course less sensitive! I confess, my attention is much engrossed by what some would call unimportant matters; but it is in them, generally, I detect the real state of my heart.'

'I believe it is wisdom so to do, for what might be deemed trifling circumstances, become frequent calls for the habitual subjugation of the temper. I believe too, that there is a latent pride which will overcome a greater trial, because it is more conspicuous and likely to attract the praise of men.'

'I have a friend,' Mrs. Reynolds said, 'whose life is to my observation, a continual exemplification of this grace of long-suffering; and is certainly, in the true sense, a living sacrifice. If you will accompany me, I will introduce you to her, and I doubt not we shall see an example, for it is a life of daily crosses.

Come, Edmund,' she said, we will go where you shall see a sacrifice to the Lord."'

In pursuance of this intention we were not long before we were at the house of Mr. Douglas, and having sent in our names, were kept a little while waiting, before Julia, his only daughter, came to receive us, saying, as she entered, ' 1 beg pardon for the delay, but I was engaged at the moment with my dear father, who is not quite so well to-day.'

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As

Her appearance interested me much, and I immediately supposed this to be the example my friend meant me to see. There was an expression and genuine air of peaceful serenity in her countenance, although I fancied I traced the lines of sorrow. she spake, a cautious bow bid me welcome, whilst she involuntarily held out her hand to little Edmund who, contrary to his usual custom, left his mamma's side to stand by her. She met his confidence with a smile; and we were entering into conversation when a step approaching the door, she started up, and said,

'That is my father's foot-I fear he is imprudent in leaving his room.'

To give him more speedy access she opened the door, but his hand happening to be on the handle of the lock at the very moment, it slipped away, and, by an awkward movement, threw the head of his crutch against the forehead of Julia: the blow was severe, and caused a slight shock to Mr. Douglas himself; she took no notice of her own hurt, but with instant care of her father, caught him by the arm, for fear he should lose his balance.

Reddening with anger, he rebuked her in a severe tone, saying, 'If you had not been so officious, 1

should have stood firm. Why could you not have let me enter by myself?'

I beg your pardon, dear father,' she replied, in a soothing voice. 'It was very awkward-I might have thrown you down; but I hope you are not hurt?'

'Not hurt! but'-he stopped; the presence of visitors inducing him to struggle against his resentment, in order to be civil.

With unmoved attention Julia placed his chair and footstool in his favourite situation.

'Not there,' he said hastily,' what do you cram it into the very corner for?'

She moved it. 'That's just as much too farthere's a medium in every thing.'

She then moved it by the smallest degrees back, looking wistfully in her father's face, as if to judge by his countenance when she had hit the exact spot he desired, and, reading the expression, let it rest: her satisfaction was evident, when he seated himself according to his desire.

For a while we entered into some general conversation with Mr. Douglas, for I felt anxious to remove the irritated feeling, if possible, by turning to some subject that suited him; but we were interrupted by the entrance of a neat young woman, bringing in a small tray, with a bason of broth for the invalid. Julia rose to set it on a table before her father, and the servant waited a moment, to know if all was right; but Mr. Douglas took up the toast, and throwing it back with a look of disgust, said, ' I like a thin toast, to be sure, but I don't want a wafer.' The servant looked oppressed with the difficulty of pleasing, and casting an appealing look towards Julia, received a direction from her in a low and

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gentle voice, Bring me the roll and the toastingfork, and I will do it.' Meantime she covered the bason, and set it before the fire to keep warm.

The loaf was brought, and she began to cut the slice, looking, as was her custom, into her father's face, to catch the indication when she was right in the proportion, and then proceeded to toast it.

'Shall I break it into the broth, father?' she asked in a kind tone.

She did so, still observing the countenance, and was stopped by, There, there, plenty-don't stuff it like a pudding; I want broth—not pudding.'

'Now then, dear father,' she said, as she placed it near him, ‘I hope it will do you good, by God's blessing, and comfort you a little.'

She then seated herself, and engaged our attention once more with conversation, which was again interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Douglas, whose face wore the appearance of extreme affliction, without that attractive serenity which adorned the countenance of Julia, and made her naturally pleasing face the picture of loveliness, over which another sweet expression now diffused itself-it was tenderness and sympathy in a mother's sorrows.

Mr. Douglas had finished his refreshment, and appeared not to be pleased with Mrs. Douglas's entrance, looking sternly towards her, with an expression of resentment. The fact was that his own appearance in the sitting-room had been induced from his desire to quit her company under the impulse of offence.

The whole scene was distressing, but the object of our attention was still too interesting to quit. She placed herself immediately between the two, so as to

intercept their view of each other, and addressing herself to her father, left her mother to our civilities.

Edmund's discerning mind was fully engaged in the contemplation of Julia's manner, till, by a movement of sympathy with a countenance of pity, he raised his hand to her forehead, and held it there, as if to soothe the swelling he observed rising from the blow. She gently took it off, and kissing his hand, patted it and laid it on her knee.

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This drew the attention of Mrs. Douglas, who exclaimed, What is the matter, Julia?—you have had a hurt.'

With an expression of alarm she hastily answered, O it is not worth notice-the slightest possible-it was my own awkwardness.'

A frown passed over Mr. Douglas's face, and Mrs. Douglas was too well accustomed to that expression not to perceive it was a subject better not continued.

My heart was so moved with this instance, that I could not refrain from entering into a conversation apart with Mrs. Douglas, on the blessing I conceived she enjoyed in such a daughter.

This opened a subject on which it was evident she delighted to expatiate, and after having spoken with tears of affection on her devotion to the comforts of her parents, she continued,' I have only one fault to find in her; and that is the seclusion of herself from the usual pleasures of young people, and the peculiar ideas she has imbibed of separating from the world. She is too serious, and spends too much time in religious reading, which will in time, I fear, depress her spirit.'

Totally unprepared for such a comment on the pursuits of her daughter, I said, 'I did not doubt the