pensities, poisons the fountain-head, and carries corruption through the whole mass.

Mary Green needed a strict hand to control her rebellious disposition; and she found one perfectly ready to do it, not for her good or for the advantage of their mutual employer, but from personal dislike. She saw this, and resentment quickened her hot temper to more frequent ebullitions, which generally ended in an open breach of some standing rule, and the imposition of its attendant fine.

These deductions formed no inconsiderable item in the widow's list of losses: Richard had volunteered to make out an exact scale of their income and expenditure, in order to discover where the chief deficiency on the one hand, or extra expense on the other lay; the first was soon calculated and noted down, the latter reluctantly given, for the poor old woman well knew how her boy's affectionate heart would be wrung by the miserable insufficiency of their diet and fuel; but he would not be baffled, and many a time was the cuff of his jacket drawn across his eyes while writing the particulars. At last he threw the pen from him, exclaiming, Granny, the work-house is better than this.'

'The work-house, Richard, is not open to those who are able to labour, as we are, and can find employment.'

'Able!' thought the boy, as he gazed at the withered hand which gently replaced the pen in his. 'Well, dearest granny, we will look all these things in the face: go on.'

The account was finished, and he said, 'Poor as your fare is, and not enough to support you properly, still it comes pretty nigh within your gains. I can't make out the deficiency,'

He was then told of Mary's continual forfeits, which exasperated him: Are not they content with kicking her about, but must they wrest her earnings from her too?'

The widow told him that it could not be avoided; Mary's conduct really provoking the penalty, as Katy herself had been obliged to admit, when closely questioned; Helen corroborating it. She had reasoned and pleaded with the child, but to no purpose, and they must patiently wait till God gave her a better mind.

I shall talk to her though,' observed Richard, ' and try if all my influence is gone. But, oh, granny, those mills are fearful places! I felt as if the hot, unnatural air would melt away all that was good for any thing in me, and leave me like one of the senseless machines, to do just whatever I was set about, right or wrong; and you know what advantages the devil will take of that state of mind.' Then, after a pause, he exclaimed, Helen must be an angel to stand it all, and to get better and better, while the rest go to ruin.'

'She is no angel,' said James, whom they supposed to be asleep, but a poor sinful mortal; yet a dear child of God, living by faith, and ripening for glory.'

Richard's brow contracted, 'Must every body be dying who lives like a Christian? Why does not Hudson die then?'

'Some of us die for our good, brother; and some of us live for the good of others.'

'Well, darling Jem, we won't argue about that,' replied Richard, kissing the cold damp brow of the patient sufferer. I only wish it might please the

Lord to let you live for my good, and I'd work the flesh off my bones for you, James; indeed I would.'

'I don't doubt it: but He who loves me better than even you do is going to take me home soon, very soon,' he added, with emphasis.

Richard gazed on him; then starting up, he said, 'I must go this minute to Mr. G., for he bade me be there. The day after to-morrow-early in the morning He threw himself on his knees beside the widow's chair, and clasping his arms round her wept and sobbed like an infant.

And oh, how that maternal bosom yearned over the child so often cradled upon it! She had no words of comfort for him; her own heart was too full for speech; she could but mingle her tears with his. James whispered, 'It will do him good; he wanted such a relief.' He was right; Richard, with swollen eyes, but a calmer spirit, took his hat, and with an 'affectionate farewell repaired to the great house on the hill, where Hudson had prepared for him a more than usually kind reception.

C. E.

ON BALLS, DANCES, AND OTHER WORLDLY AMUSEMENTS.

ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS.

THERE are many persons, who, while they readily admit, that, as Christians, there would be an impropriety in their attending the theatre, do not allow that any impropriety is attached to their frequenting the ball-room and the dance; and having more than once heard the following inquiry made in an assembly of those persons, who are by way of distinction termed 'professing Christians,' I take this opportunity, according to the best of my ability, of offering a reply.

'What greater sin can there be in moving the feet in particular steps, to a lively tune, than there is in skipping, or in any other kind of recreation?' In answer to this question, I would observe, that the evil does not appear to me to consist simply in the action of dancing: did the question, as it is stated, present a correct view of the subject, and the only one that could be taken, the practice would be perfectly innocent. Were dancing used merely as a necessary recreation for the mind, or as healthful exercise for the body, it would be difficult to prove it otherwise than harmless in itself, and consequently unobjectionable.

But is dancing usually engaged in for either of these purposes? Surely not. Instead of the short season being given to the exercise of dancing by which such useful ends might be attained, are not hours devoted to it, instead of minutes? Instead of recreation, is it not made a fatigue? And may I not ask, Instead of an innocent amusement, is it not made a sin? The time that should be appropriated to rest is spent in trifling and unprofitable conversation; and hours must be robbed from the following day to recruit the wearied body: and even then, how frequently does there remain, at least in many instances, a lassitude and an ennui, which causes the duties of the day to be indolently fulfilled, or, as it may be, to be neglected. Who shall render up their account for time thus expended?

Again; much light will be thrown upon the nature of this amusement, and lessons may be learned, by which our own judgment may be formed, and our own conduct regulated, if we pause for a moment and consider what are the ends which the world in general have in view, in the pursuit and the practice of dancing. It is certain that many who frequent the ball-room and the dance, do so as it affords to them opportunities of display, whether of their dress or their persons; there is an evident endeavour to attract the notice and gain the admiration of others. Some have pronounced it an excellent way to kill time.' What a thoughtless, what an awful expression! How little could they know that even one moment would remain for them to prepare for eternity! To numbers, the dance presents an opening, and is used for the very purpose of making acquaintances, and of forming connections for life; and, alas!