Unfortunately, Kelly's consistent conduct excited the jealousy of one of the young men employed by the firm in the delivery department. For reasons of his own, which were afterwards explained, he endeavoured to obtain the boy's dismissal from the establishment by every means in his power. It is the jealousy, and unreasonable dislike of a worthless fellow workman, which often discourages, and injures many a well-meaning, worthy youth.

Kelly's worthy friend, the housekeeper, spoke on every occasion in the boy's favour, but one day overheard the following conversation between this man-under whom the boy was placed-and. Mr. Hogg. "Well!" asked Mr. Hogg, "and how is the new lad getting on?" "Oh!" replied the man, "I wished to speak to you about him ; I can't make anything of him. I don't think he is at all the boy for us!" "Why?" asked Mr. Hogg. "Oh! he is so very slow, replied the man, adding something which the housekeeper could not hear. "Oh! well! give him time"-replied Mr. Hogg "let him have a fair trial." "I like him," added Mr. Hogg-“ he's a biddable_boy!" It was evident that the youth's attentive, docile, conduct had already caught the eye of his employer.

One day, as Kelly was passing a cheesemonger's shop, the boy's quick eye detected in the window some sheets of printed paper, which he instantly recognised as part of a work then in process of being printed by his employer. Quietly entering the shop, and making a trifling purchase, he saw in a corner a large stock of similar sheets. Kelly immediately obtained a private interview with Mr. Hogg, who accompanied him to the shop. The shopkeeper willingly placed the matter in the hands of the police, who soon discovered that the dishonest young man above alluded to, who was so anxious to obtain Kelly's removal, had been in the habit of selling considerable quantities of paper belonging to the firm, representing it to be the damaged paper of a printer which he had purchased. "This was my first appearance in a court of justice," says Kelly-"I felt very sad at having to be witness against the young man I had worked with, and I remember the extreme fear I had lest I should state when on my oath, anythingeven a single word-incorrectly, remembering the necessity of having a conscience void of offence before God, before whom I had taken the solemn obligation of an oath. Little did I then think, when trembling, as a boy, in the witness box, that at a future day I should be raised to the

dignity of First Commissioner of the Central Criminal Court, with sword of Justice over my head, and the Mace at my feet, and should occupy the very judgment seat at which, as a boy, I had looked with such awe!" The theft being clearly proved, the man was convicted, and sentenced to seven months imprisonment.

Although having lived so hard a life-while his wages were but ten pounds a year, the boy gave nearly half of it to aid his parents, who were in poor circumstances.

As his salary slowly increased-with that unselfish affection for his parents-which many of the most successful men have shown-he constantly helped his father to stock his farm and improve his land-and (what the boy cared for more than all) to lighten his poor mother's toil.

There were griefs which he could not ward off. One after another he lost four of his younger brothers and sisters, the expenses of their funerals being defrayed by him.

It was not until he was thirty-nine years of age that Thomas Kelly began business for himself. He had only a very small capital to start with, but trained for long years to a life of self-denial and patient resolution, he by degrees entered into more extensive undertakings, printing and publishing some important standard books-circulating them in numbers-a new idea at that time, and employing agents to sell them.

The reward of patient toil and industry was obtained; for, from this time Thomas Kelly's course was one of brilliant success; his trade transactions came to be estimated by hundreds of thousands of pounds, and as it has been in thousands of instances-an early life and youth of toil, and steady, quiet, application, was crowned by an old age of honour and fortune. Thomas Kelly-or Álderman Kelly, as he was usually called-became Lord Mayor of London. Full of days and of honour-his prospects brightening to the last-he closed a useful valuable life, at the advanced age of eighty-four.

One incident will close our record of this good mandutiful in his boyhood, patient and industrious in his youth-prosperous and useful in his manhood. Throughout his life he made an annual visit to the grave of his parents; and it was during these visits that a warm friendship was formed between Alderman Kelly and the clergyman of the parish, who from the first had been struck with the filial piety displayed in these yearly visits. It was to this

friendship thus formed that we owe the admirable life of Alderman Kelly.

In this account of one of the many instances of a poor boy of our time and country becoming rich and great, every youth who reads it must acknowledge that Thomas Kelly's start in life was certainly not more hopeful than his can be. Here, at least, we have no happy chance, no sudden turn of fortune which the youth who reads this can compare despondingly with his own prospects, and sadly conclude that nothing of the kind can occur to him. In the life of this boy we have nothing of the kind; he began life under the most hopeless aspects as regards fame or fortune. A poor working boy on a small farm, then a shop boy, sleeping for years under a counter, with £10 a year (half of which went to his parents), fifteen years without a holiday-not setting up in business till thirtynine years of age, then only in a small way. Surely such a life may encourage every boy who reads it to try to accomplish what, in spite of all that was against him, Thomas Kelly succeeded in doing.

The secret of this boy's success, as it is with thousands of successful men, was his conscientious, steady, application, his faithful performance of duty towards his employers, his parents and all who had a claim upon him;—and his great desire, as he himself says, "to live a life, not of great ambition, but one void of offence both to God and man." It was this, far rather than the mere pursuit of wealth, which influenced him through life.

Without God's blessing, riches, when they come, can impart no true, really, lasting, happiness. A docile, industrious, obedient boyhood, blossoms naturally into an industrious youth, and a useful, honourable, and successful manhood.

Let every youth who reads this book, instead of desponding, follow the steps of this good youth (as follow them you can), by setting before you God's favour as the great object above all else to be gained, and in doing so, you will one day find, as Thomas Kelly did, that you have gained honour, influence, success, and all else with it.

"They that honour Me, I will honour; but they that despise Me shall be lightly esteemed."

"POOR BOYS AND HOW THEY BECAME FAMOUS."

No. 3.-A TRAGEDY.

THOMAS CHATTERTON, OF BRISTOL.

E have," says a recent writer-" biographies of successful-self-made, men, ad nauseam,' till we are sick of them; Smiles, Tupper, and the religious magazines are crammed with them. Men who seem to have combined 'getting on' and 'making money,' with perfect piety, in a manner perfectly startling, until we are compelled to doubt whether, in these modern times, they have not discovered a golden path, in which it is possible to serve both God and Mammon.' Will no one give us a few beacons and warnings? Surely they cannot all succeed, else where are our eyes? How about the great army of the unsuccessful-the vicious-the fallen? To one who rises above his original station in life how many fall below it? Might not the histories of wasted, misspent lives be instructive? How is it that we never hear of them? Success may teach us some lessons, but it is from failure that we learn wisdom."

"We are much bound to them that do succeed,

But, in a more pathetic sense are bound

To those who fail !"

Having given two instances of successful boys, let us take the histories of two who were unsuccessful-not only in this life, but in the deepest and saddest sense of all!

In the great British Museum in London may be seen several letters written in a boyish hand, together with a number of poems written in the old "Black Letter" Saxon English, of 500 years ago, on old parchment, or rather parchment supposed to have been blackened over a candle so as closely to resemble it. These papers thus carefully preserved by our nation, in the British Museum, were the work of a boy of sixteen-that wonderful boy, Thomas Chatterton, who died by his own hand when not quite 18 years old, being at the time reduced to starvation in London, where he had gone to seek his fortune.

K