who had nobody to look after but himself, he began to be conscious of his duties as a husband and a citizen. He dared to go to a Dissenting place of worship. Sabbath after Sabbath he visited a Dissenting chapel, till by-and-bye he was told that, if he did not cease from going amongst those wicked Dissenters, he would have to leave his situation. That man, who had then obtained a situation with a character of seven years, had not been in that situation six weeks before his employer came and told him that the clergyman had made a request that he (the employer) would discharge that man from his situation because he went to a Dissenting place of worship. But the gentleman said, 'No; I have had seven years' good character with him; he is likely to suit me, and I shall not change.' That gentleman died, and the man had to seek employment elsewhere; and for three

years that man did not earn five shillings within the boundaries of his own parish. He had broken no law, he stood as a respectable citizen and as a loyal subject to the throne and crown of England, and yet, after all his intentions and desires to do good and to be good, he and his wife and family would have starved for the sake of principle if there had been no more humane and liberal persons outside his village than there were in it. That individual was Joseph Arch. And my experience has been the experience of thousands and thousands of the farm labourers."

Having himself suffered much hardship, Joseph Arch has a keen sympathy for the suffering. As we have before said, there are differences of opinion amongst equally good and able men as to the wisdom of the course he has taken, but all must admit his honesty and intelligence.

MERICA, as our readers know, is a new country. And many things are different there from what they are in England. Most of the houses are built of wood, and very comfortable places they are. Many of the chapels and churches are built in the same way, so also are the hotels. And it frequently happens in towns newly laid out, that the owner of a house wishes to remove it to some other part, and instead of pulling it down and carting the materials to the place where he wishes it to stand, he

removes it without taking it down. The Americans are a very clever, ingenious people. They have invented a great number of machines for the saving of labour, such as the stitching machine, and reaping machine. They have also contrived an apparatus by which they are able to move a large house or hotel from one end of the street to the other, even without disturbing any of the furniture. The engraving on page 9 represents men at work in preparing for the removal of a house.

that the constant use of "if" spoiled Bessie Green's holiday, and took away from it all the enjoyment and pleasure which she imagined a long summer day spent in the

country would give. How she had thought about it and looked forward to it for weeks

beforehand! Her parents were poor hardworking people, who rarely left home, and so the very idea of a treat like this was delightful, and she scarcely slept the night before, so afraid was she of not being ready in time. I cannot tell you how often she got up in the course of the night, either to see what o'clock it was, or to look out of the window and wonder whether it was going to be a fine or wet day; but it seemed to her as if morning would never come. However, long before six she was up and dressed, and by eight o'clock the hour fixed on for starting-she and two hundred children, with several teachers, and some kind friends who gave them this treat, were at the station, and very soon the train was off, and they were speeding away from the smoky streets of the city toward the green fields and shady lanes of the country.

the

Now, if Bessie Green had been as wise as her companions, she would have done as they did-looked out of the window and admired all she saw passing by-and so have begun the enjoyment of the day; for to eyes unaccustomed to such scenes, even the cows and sheep grazing in the meadows, or the horses galloping off across fields frightened by the train, were all new and amusing sights. But our foolish little friend, instead of doing this, began to look first at her own dress, and then at her neighbours', thereby she grew discontented. "If I only had a felt hat with a red feather in it like Mary Jones, instead of this straw one with a plain bit of blue ribbon around it, how I should like it; and if my mother would buy me a smart muslin frock, such as Emma Smith wears, how much better it would be than the cotton frocks she always gets for me." And she pouted and frowned, and looked so miserable, that her schoolfellows would have wondered what was the matter if they had noticed her;

but they were so busy thinking of other things that they never saw there was anything amiss. Happy children! they had resolved to enjoy themselves, and they did so from morning till night; while unhappy little Bessie let discontent creep in, and so her holiday-that day she had looked forward to so much--was, as I said before, spoilt.

Ah! I fear there are many people in this world, both young and old, who do as Bessie did; instead of being contented with the state of life in which God has placed them, and doing their best to make themselves and others happy, they let this little word "if" creep in on every occasion, and in too many cases spoil not one day only, but their whole lives.

A shout of pleasure arose from the two hundred throats of our little travellers when at length they stopped at a roadside station, and exchanged the train for a shady lane leading to a park, the kind owner of which had placed it at their disposal for the day. Now, ought not Bessie to have begun at last to enjoy herself? No; foolish Bessie had seen a carriage at the station, and envied the ladies who got into it. "If I had a carriage and horses, how much pleasanter it would be driving up this lane, instead of walking, as I am obliged to do now." And so she went along at such a slow, sulky pace, that she was far behind when the lodge gates were reached, and was almost shut out when the children and teachers were admitted into the park. And as they had shouted for joy at sight of the shady lanes, how much more did they shout when they saw the beautiful spot in which for a whole long day they were to amuse themselves. There were meadows covered with hay-not such hay as is seen in stables, brown and hard and stiff, but soft, green, and grassy-looking, smelling sweetly, and just the thing to roll about in and cover one another up with. Then there was a

nice level cricket-ground, and all ready for the boys to begin a game. And when in the midst of the beautiful park they saw the house and gardens--a house so large that it seemed a palace in the eyes of the children, while the gardens were filled with flowers of every colour-they shouted again, all except Bessie, who of course began again to envy. "Oh, what a splendid house! If I could only live there, I am sure I should never be unhappy again-if I could stay here and not go back to London if"

I need not stop to tell you of the evening journey, for it was like the morning one,

excepting that now the hopes of a pleasant day had been fulfilled, and the children talked of what they had done, instead of what they intended to do. Bessie Green wondered, as she heard them talking, how it was that they all seemed so much happier than she did, and how it was that the longed-for holiday had not been altogether a day of enjoyment. When she arrived at home she had very little to say about what she had done or seen; but as she has since then been more contented, we must suppose that her wandering has had some effect, and that she will not let spoil her next holiday. Child's Companion.

Na warm day, a large school of boys

and girls were conning over their lessons. The teacher tried hard to keep order, to make all take to their studies, to help those who needed aid, and to make all happy. He opened the doors and the windows to give them fresh air, but all would not do. Some felt discouraged with their lessons, some felt sleepy, some felt cross, and everything seemed to drag and linger. By and by the heavy tread of a foot on the doorsteps was heard, and, without knocking, in walked a hard-faced man, somewhat old in years, but with a firm step. The children at first felt afraid of him; but they soon found that beneath his hard looks there was a bright eye, a pleasant smile, and a kind heart. But instead of sitting down and staring at the school, he sat down by the side of a little girl who was trying in vain to get her spelling lesson. There were tears of discouragement in her eyes.

66

Well, what's the matter with our little one ?"

"Then you have twenty left which you call hard. Now take the first one, look at it sharp, see every letter in it, count the letters, see just how the word looks. Now shut your eyes, and see if you can still see just how the word looks. Spell it over softly to yourself. There now, you spell it right. Now do so with the next word, and the next, till you have them all."

"Oh, sir, that is very easy! I can get my lesson now.”

Then the visitor went to a boy, who was puzzling over a sum in arithmetic. He was discouraged, and almost cross.

sum grows harder and harder! It seems as if the man who made the book tried to see how hard sums he could put down."

"I see. Now, what's the rule by which this sum is to be done? Repeat it. Very well, only you have not said it quite right. Turn to it, and see. There, now, you left out one important link. You now understand the rule. Try the sum now, putting in the part you left out."

"Oh, sir, it's easy now! I see, and I can now do them all."

"Yes; but you must not be thinking about your ball, and kite, and play. You must give all your mind to the thing you are studying, and then it will all be easy.'

The stranger next sat down by a boy who was trying to commit the declension of a noun in the Latin Grammar. Over and over he had repeated, but, alas! he could not make the memory hold it. He was ready to throw down the book.

"Hold there, my boy! Don't look so discouraged. Take your pen, and carefully write down that declension. See how

every

Very well. Put away that bit of paper, get another, and try it again and again, till you can write it without a single mistake. You can say it then, for writing will fix it in the memory."

Thus he went from seat to seat, and helped all. The scholars forgot the heat. They all had their lessons, the teacher smiled and praised them, and all were very happy. Just as he was leaving the teacher thanked the stranger, and hoped he would soon call again.

“Oh!" said he, “ 'just send for me at any time, and I will come and give anyone a lift."

"Pray, sir, by what name shall we ask for you?'

"Mr. HARDSTUDY, sir, at your service!" -Rev. John Todd.

LONDON paper furnishes the following:"There is now an old man in an almshouse in Bristol who states that for sixty years he spent sixpence a-day in drink, but was never intoxicated. A gentleman who heard this statement was somewhat curious to ascertain how much this sixpence a-day, put by every year, at 5 per cent. compound interest, would amount to in sixty years. Putting down the first year's saving (three hundred and sixty-five sixpences) nine pounds sterling, eleven shillings, and sixpence, he added the interest, and thus went on year by year, until he found

that in the sixtieth year the sixpence a-day reached the startling sum of three thousand, two hundred, and twenty-five pounds sterling, nineteen shillings, and ninepence.”

Judge of the old man's surprise when told that, had he saved his sixpence a day, and allowed it to accumulate at compound interest, he might now have been worth the above noble sum; so that, instead of taking refuge in an almshouse, he might have comforted himself with a house of his own and fifty acres of land, and have left the legacy among his children and grandchildren, or used it for the welfare of his fellow-men.

weaver himself. Cervantes was a common soldier. Homer was the son of a small farmer. Molière was the son of a tapestry maker. Demosthenes was the son of a cutler. Terence was a slave. Oliver Cromwell was the son of a London brewer. Howard was an apprentice to a grocer. Franklin was a journeyman printer, and son of a tallow chandler and soap boiler. Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Worcester, was the son of a linen draper. Daniel Defoe was a hostler, and son of a butcher. Whitefield

was the son of an innkeeper at Gloucester. Virgil was the son of a porter. Horace was the son of a shopkeeper. Shakspeare

was the son of a woolstapler. Milton was the son of a money scrivener. Robert

MEN

Burns was a ploughman in Ayrshire. Mohammed, called the Prophet, was a driver of asses. Mohammed Ali was a barber. Madame Bernadotte was a washerwoman of Paris. Napoleon, descendant of an obscure family of Corsica, was a major when he married Josephine, the daughter of a tobacconist creole of Martinique. Espartero was the son of a cartwright. Bolivar was a druggist. Vasco

de Gama was a sailor. John Jacob Astor once sold apples in the streets of New York. Catherine, empress of Russia, was a camp follower. Cincinnatus was ploughing in his vineyard when the dictatorship of Rome was offered him. Elihu Burritt was a blacksmith. Abraham Lincoln was a rail

splitter.

SHIP's crew rose in mutiny against the captain soon after they had lost sight of home. Then they said, "Who shall steer us safe to some foreign land?" So they appointed as pilot one of the mutineers, who said he knew the way. But the crew were divided among themselves: some thought the captain knew the way, others believed in the new pilot; at one time the captain's side got the upper hand, and then they used to unbind the captain and set him at the helm: then presently the other side would prevail, and they would push away the captain and put the mutineer in the captain's place. The consequence was, that the vessel used to sail at one time in one way, and at another time in quite the opposite way, so that they made no progress at all.

At last, one evening as the sun was setting, one of the oldest and most experienced

sailors said, "Look yonder: there is the Black Rock, on which hundreds of fine ships have been wrecked, and we are drifting towards it. Night is coming on, and the current is taking us fast to the rock. This comes of having more than one pilot."

It is foolish to suppose that we can serve Jesus at one moment, and Evil the next. If we do, our life will be a zigzag; we shall make no progress, and we may at any moment run into terrible sin.

Mind, therefore, you cannot please God on Sundays and yourselves on week-days. You cannot say, "I will do as I am told in school, but at home I will do as I like;" or, "I will try to make my schoolfellows like me, but I shall not take any trouble about my brothers and sisters;" or, "I will never steal money, but I do not mind taking sugar or biscuits or a little fruit." You must try to please Jesus always.