THE ORPHANS.

A TRUE STORY.

I HAVE often observed in a flat and uninteresting country there are spots of even peculiar beauty, and when in our walks we suddenly come on such scenes, the pleasure they give one is almost, if not quite, equal to what is felt by those who live surrounded by such objects. Such is the goodness and wisdom of the Creator of all: who in the darkest paths places brighter objects to cheer us on our way, and that we may never want a subject to raise our hearts in thankfulness; either anticipating the coming pleasure, or filling our minds with recollections of the past interest. I have been led into this train of reflection by a walk I took a short time since with a friend, when I was delighted with one very pretty spot: doubly pretty from its being situated in an otherwise uninteresting country. It was a stone quarry, one of moderate size, the bottom of which was partially filled with water, on two sides the rock rose to a considerable height, presenting a handsome face of stone. At the top of one cliff was a humble cottage belonging to one of the labourers, on the other a picturesque mill for the purpose of drawing the water out of the quarry; at the farther end the men were all at work, and the distant country beyond completed the picture with the woods belonging to a neighbouring squire, and some of the few hills which the county can boast of. My companion was very much amused with my exclamations of delight as I stopped before this pretty scene, and when at last I turned from it and we continued our walk, she said, "I think I can tell you what will increase the interest you feel about this place," of course I begged her to let me hear what she had to relate, and she gave me the following little history. "The quarry belonged to a nobleman in the neighbourhood, and had been tenanted for some years by the same family. About three years ago the wife died, her husband who was sincerely attached to her, was quite broken-hearted, and gave himself up so entirely to grief that he neglected his business and his health, and in one year after, followed his wife to the grave, leaving five children to the care of his eldest daughter, a girl of seven

teen. This girl (whom I shall call Anne), during her father's illness, managed the accounts of the quarry, and endeavoured to keep the affairs of the family as straight as she could, therefore at her father's death she was not an entire stranger to the business, and prayed the agent of her landlord that she might be continued as tenant, this however he declined, giving as his reason that "she would lose the little she had, by embarking on such a scheme." Poor Anne felt it was the only means left to enable her to provide for her younger brothers and sisters, and in her distress applied to my friend (whose benevolence and zeal were well known to her poorer neighbours). She solicited the agent, promising to answer for the payment of the first year's rent, and the favour was granted. Anne being reinstated in her father's situation, engaged some of the old workmen, and retained the foreman who had acted in that capacity for many years, and so commenced business for herself. The second sister she put out to service, the third she kept at home, and also the youngest boy, who was not more than five years old and the two elder ones she sent regularly to the parish-school in an adjoining village. When my friend had told me so much of this interesting story, we were close to Anne's cottage, and we agreed to pay her a visit. We turned through the little wicket, and met the younger girl carrying water for washing, and found Anne sitting at her work, with the youngest boy by her side learning a lesson. We talked for some time to Anne, and I thought her sensible and intelligent, and was very much pleased with her expressions of gratitude to my friend for her timely assistance. She told me she had now paid off all the debts but two, one for repairing the mill which had been much injured in the storm of last January, and the other was to her friend, my companion. The produce of the quarry she trusted would enable her to defray these in a short time, and she was very careful not to incur further debts. Our conversation gave me great satisfaction, and when I left the cottage, I could not but reflect, in what a difficult situation this young girl had been placed, and how manifestly He, who is the God of the fatherless, had been with her to bless her ex

ertions. If people will not endeavour to clear themselves from their distresses; in short, if they refuse to set their own shoulder to the wheel, they cannot expect any one else to do the work for them; or if indeed they are so fortunate as to find any one willing to do it, they will perceive when too late, the business is not so thoroughly done as if they did it themselves. But here we have a living example, how the young, and the weak, and the unprotected, may rise above their difficulties by meeting them with hearty endeavours on their side, endeavours which are sure to be crowned, sooner or later (in His good time) by that merciful God and Father, who works in us and with us, of His good pleasure. I cannot lay down my pen without also pointing out, as in the foregoing instance, how much may be done by seasonable assistance from the rich to the industrious poor. Anne being allowed to remain as tenant, enabled her to pursue a business with which she was acquainted. My friend's interference with regard to the first year's rent, gave her the opportunity of becoming the tenant, and both combined, have given a home and a provision for six orphans, who under other circumstances must have been dispersed to seek a home and a living among strangers.

HOW TO AVOID CATCHING COLD.

F.

ACCUSTOM yourself to the use of sponging with cold water every morning on first getting out of bed. It should be done quickly, and followed with a good deal of rubbing with a rough towel. It has considerable effect in giving tone to the skin, and maintaining a proper action in it, and thus proves a safeguard to the injurious influence of cold, and sudden changes of temperature: therefore, a person who is in the habit of thus fortifying the skin will be much less likely to suffer injury from heated rooms, and the change from a hot room to the cold air. Sir Astley Cooper says, "The methods by which I preserve my own health are temperance, early rising, and sponging the body every morning with cold water, immediately after getting out of bed,—a practice which I have adopted for thirty years; and though I go from a most heated atmosphere into the squares of the hospital, in the severest winter nights, yet I scarcely ever have a cold." T. S. GRAHAM, M.D.

"DO THIS IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME."

Susan.-How rejoiced I am, my dear sister, that you are with us at this time, for we shall now, I hope, be able to go together to the Lord's table.

Jane. You take it for granted, then, that I shall receive the sacrament with you?

Susan.-Certainly I do, if it please God to grant us life and health. You surprise and distress me by even hinting that you are not ready and eager to embrace every opportunity of partaking of the holy communion. "Do this in remembrance of me," were our Saviour's words, spoken a few hours before He offered up Himself upon the cross; and at this season, when we keep up the memory of His birth, we must also think why He came into the world and was born of a woman, that He might offer up His body and blood as a sacrifice for our sins.

Jane. But, Susan, I have never yet been able to make up my mind to receive the sacrament at all.

Susan.-Never! Indeed, Jane, I am grieved to hear you say so. Will you tell me the reasons which have kept you away from the Lord's table?

Jane. I am afraid I can hardly explain my reasons. But I have sometimes read through the whole service for the communion, and it appears to me very solemn and awful.

But

Susan. It is indeed very solemn; but do you not also find in it so much encouragement to trust in God's mercy and in Christ's sacrifice, as to make you wish to be one of those to whom the words of comfort are addressed, and for whom the prayers and praises are offered up? Jane. I have often thought that those who can join in the service with all their heart, must be very happy. then sister, there are fearful judgments spoken of for those who come unworthily, and we are told to examine ourselves; and if I look within for a moment, I find so many sinful thoughts and wishes, and I can remember so many sinful actions and idle words, that I can never think I am worthy to come to the holy communion of the body and blood of Christ.

Susan.-I assure you, dear sister, I was at one time very much distressed and perplexed by this same feeling,

and I was disposed to think that I ought not to receive the sacrament till I was less liable to fall into sin, but how I was to find out or determine when I was good enough, I did not know so I asked Mr. P., the kind clergyman of our parish for his advice and direction. He shewed me clearly that I was mistaken altogether, and explained to me the difference between being worthy to receive, and receiving worthily. We can never be worthy so as to deserve to receive the least of God's mercies; but yet we do not receive them unworthily, if we enjoy them with humble, thankful, and obedient hearts. And I remember Mr. P. said, the judgments threatened against those who come unworthily, are for those who presume to approach the Lord's table irreverently, without thinking of what they are about, who have no true faith and trust in Christ's sacrifice for their sins, who do not wish or intend to try, by God's help, to live to Him who died for them. You know our catechism tells us what is the proper mind for those who come to the Lord's supper.

Jane. Thank you, dear Susan, you have relieved me from a very great difficulty by what you have said. I am sure I never could go irreverently or thoughtlessly to keep up the memory of the breaking of the body and shedding of the blood of my Saviour; and I do indeed hope I have a full and firm faith in His sacrifice and merits as my only hope of pardon for my many sins, which I earnestly desire to repent of and to forsake. But temptations sometimes come upon me so suddenly, and I am led into angry words and evil thoughts; and I have heard people say they would not receive the sacrament, because perhaps as soon as they came from church, something might happen which would put them in a passion or lead them into some other great sin, and that would be so very dreadful.

Susan. It is indeed very dreadful that our great enemy should have so much power over us, at times when we might think ourselves the best prepared against him. But sin must still be sin to every one who commits it, whether they have received the sacrament or not; those who thus refuse to receive it, only add this sin to their others, that they refuse to seek a cure for their sins.