for your good advice, which I shall be sure to follow, and will take care that Anne shall not go anywhere, but where she will be well looked after."

With this resolution Susan Price soon took her leave, and in about a week afterwards came with great joy to inform Mrs. Williams that she had succeeded in getting a place for her daughter, in a neighbouring city, and that the family were very religious indeed. She was in a great bustle, as Anne was to go the beginning of May, and she had many necessary preparations to make. As she left the cottage, Mrs. Williams shook her head, and expressed some doubt to her daughter how it might turn out.

MARY. "But why, mother, are you afraid that Anne should not do well?"

MRS. WILLIAMS. "Because, my child, she has not been brought up with the fear of God before her eyes. I should be sorry to speak ill of a neighbour, but you know as well as I do the examples she has had. Her mother is a good-humoured, kind-hearted person, thoughtless to a degree, and but too sadly indifferent to the one thing needful.' Caring for the things of this world, and striving to feed and clothe her large family, are the things which occupy all her attention; while her Saviour's command, Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you,' is totally forgotten in the slavery to which she condemns herself. Then the father, wearied with toil, comes home and joins the family meal, without craving a blessing, and all retire at night without offering up a single prayer of thanksgiving to the God of all mercies for the blessings received, and rise again in the morning, and go forth to their work and to their labour, without one petition for a renewal of spiritual strength for the day on which they are entering."

MARY. "Oh! yes, that is very shocking; and I have talked to Anne about it, and she assures me she does say her prayers."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "Saying of prayers and praying are two very different things, and I fear it would be difficult to perform the latter in that house of confusion. Then the Sabbath. How is that observed? They call it a day of rest, and spend the greater part of the mornings in absolute laziness, and many of the afternoons in gossipping about from one door to another; and it is but now and then that they remember it is the Lord's day, and as such tread the courts of his house. This is but a bad foundation for a good and faithful servant to spring from, for if we have not been accustomed to obey a heavenly Master, how are we likely properly to serve an earthly one ?"

MARY. "But poor Anne has thought more seriously lately, and I do think if she was removed from the bad examples she sees at home, she would become a very different girl."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "I sincerely wish this might be the case. She has received religious instructions at the Sunday School, and the good seed which is now choked with thorns, may yet spring up and bring forth fruit. Much will depend upon the mistress under whom she is placed. At home she has been so little used to obey, that she will find it very difficult to subject her own will to the commands of another. This is a sad error in many a too indulgent parent. They allow themselves to be coaxed into compliance with all the wishes and whims of their children, even from their tenderest years, and thus by degrees lose all authority over them, and the pert answer, with selfwilled obstinate disobedience, soon follows. Then again, Susan Price has been still more guilty, for she has often screened her children from the displeasure of their father, by either inventing a falsehood herself, or by upholding them in theirs. In my mistress's family I have seen the evil effects of the want of the love of truth in servants in too many instances, not to be certain that no good place can be kept without that foundation. One untruth is obliged to be supported

by so many others, that the unhappy creature is soon found out, and the loss of place and character is the melancholy consequence, as no one will keep a person upon whose word they cannot depend. You see, then, my dear Mary, of what importance it is for the mother of a family to watch her own conduct, as a bad example does away with all the good instructions received from school or from books; for the evil seen practised at home is but too often carried into service, ready to break out whenever temptation offers."

Mary appeared much struck with her mother's last observation, and they remained for some time silent, and as her father then came in, the conversation was not resumed. Mary, however, saw her friend several times before she left the village.

Months passed on, and as the autumn began to appear, Mary and her mother were much pleased to see Anne Price enter the little garden before the cottage. Mary hastily threw down her work and ran out to meet her, expressing a lively joy at seeing her, for a warm friendship had subsisted between them, as they had attended the same Sunday School, and the same Church, and the same village path led to the home of cach, and though poor Anne was never regular in any

thing, and many an idle excuse was framed for staying at home, yet still whenever she did go, they went together, for the tidy, punctual little Mary never failed to call to see if she was ready, and often persuaded her to go, when her mother's neglect and her own inclination tempted her to remain at home. As soon, therefore, as Mary had welcomed her into the house, the warmhearted girl eagerly began: "Well, Anne, how do you like your place, and how do you get on?"

ANNE. "O! I like my place very well. To be sure there are some hardships, for my mistress is very particular, and will have her own way, and expects every thing to be done just as she likes.".

MRS. WILLIAMS (smiling). "Why to be sure, Anne, that is but natural, as she of course hired you

1

to serve her in any way she might command, and it is your duty to obey her in all things, when not inconsistent with your duty to God."

ANNE. That is the very thing I am come to talk to you about."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "Indeed."

ANNE. "Yes. You know, when I was hired, my mother told you it was a religious family I was going into. Well, so they are, I suppose; and when I first went, we used to attend the Church very regularly, and we had some good books to read in the evenings. The cook was very kind to me, and often explained many little things, which to be sure I ought to have known myself, if I had not so neglected the Sunday School. I am sorry enough for it now, and I wish, Mrs. Williams, I had followed your advice in that matter. However, she soon found out how ignorant I was; so she instructed me in a quiet way; not by setting herself up as my teacher, but by asking me about the sermon (which was one way of making me attend to it), and when I could not give much account of what I had heard, she told me how she had been taught, and then we read all the chapter that the text had been taken from, and so we went on very comfortable together."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "This is good news indeed! And I think, Anne, you should consider yourself very fortunate in having such a valuable fellow-servant."

ANNE. "Indeed I do; for I may say she is the best friend I have in the world, for she has twice saved me from losing my place."

MRS. WILLIAMS.

"How was that?"

ANNE. "I am ashamed to tell; but you have been always kind to me, Mrs. Williams, so I won't conceal my faults. faults. Once I would have my own way instead of obeying my mistress; and once I was still more guilty, I forgot all your good advice and that of my dear Mary, and told a falsehood."

A 5

1

MRS. WILLIAMS. "That was sad indeed."

ANNE. "Yes, in both I was quite wrong; for you had kindly warned me before I went, that obedience, truth, and honesty, would be always expected from me: and I so displeased my mistress, in the first instance, that she would have sent me home, but for the good word of the cook, and when I afterwards acted so much worse, and told an untruth, it was as much as my friend could do to prevail on my mistress to keep me. But the kind creature begged so hard for me, and even shed tears, when she went to my mistress, and told her how badly I had been brought up, and that it might be the utter ruin of me, to cast me upon the world in disgrace; and she pleaded so feelingly and so respectfully, that at last my mistress consented to give me one more trial. And I am sure it is a lesson I hope I shall never forget."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "You have given the best possible sign of true repentance by so freely confessing your faults."

Mary had listened most anxiously to this conversation; she said nothing, but a tear stood in her eye while she warmly pressed the hand of her friend.

ANNE. "I thank you, Mary, for that kind look ; your good advice and example ought to have prevented my error."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "But you said you had something to consult me about."

ANNE. "To be sure I have, and I am coming to that part of my story: I told you my mistress was religious, and how comfortable we all went on at first. Well; now a great change has taken place, and my mistress wishes us never to go to Church again."

MRS. WILLIAMS. "Never to go to Church again! I am astonished beyond measure. What reason can she possibly give for such a request?"

ANNE. She tells us that there is a person come into the town, who understands preaching the Gospel