spoke, she prayed in silence for her husband and her children, and she felt her heart lighter. Then she said :

Leonard, trust in God's mercy, and resolve—to do all that you ought to do.

Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude! said Leonard, and the tears poured down his cheek in streams.

Nay, Leonard, said Gertrude, take heart, and trust in your Father which is in Heaven, and all will go on better. It goes to my heart to make you cry, dear one; I would gladly hide all my sorrow from you; you know that when I am at your side, bread and water is enough for me; and that I am often up and working hard after midnight for you and the children. But if I were to show no sorrow at the fear of being separated from you and these darlings, I should neither be a mother to them, nor true to you. Dear one! our children are still full of thankfulness and love towards us: but, my Leonard, if they are to have no parents in us any longer, all their love and good-heartedness, on which I build everything, will soon be gone. And think, dear, think how it must be, if Nicholas should have no house to cover him: he who is now so fond of talking of freedom and his own fire-side. If he and all our darlings should be brought to beggary by our fault, and so come to thank us no longer in their hearts, but accuse us, their parents, Leonard, of injuring them! Could you live, dearest, to see your dear Nicholas, and John, and Bessy, and Annie, all seeking their bread at the board of strangers? I should die, said Gertrude, to see that :-and the tears flowed down her cheeks.

Leonard wept as fast as she did-What can I do? what a wretch I am! what am I to do? Gertrude, you don't know the worst yet. Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude! and then he stopt again, wrung his hands, and cried aloud.

Dear Leonard, said Gertrude, keep nothing back; nothing, however bad. Tell it all, that we may see what can be done.

Oh, Gertrude, it breaks my heart to make you more miserable, and yet I must. I owe Hummel, the bailiff, thirty florins, and that fellow has not the heart of a man to any body that owes him money. Oh! that I had never set my eyes upon him! If I stay away from his Tap, he threatens to take the law of me, and if I go there, he has all the wages of my labour in his claws.

Why not go to Arner dear, our good lord? You know that he has the good word of all the widows and orphans in the village. I am sure, Leonard, that he would advise us and stand our friend against this man.

O Gertrude! replied Leonard, I can't, I dare not what could I say to the bailiff? he has no end of ways to ruin one: he is deep and cunning, and has plenty to help him to cry down a poor man's voice, so that no magistrate could hear him. G.-Nay dear, I have never spoken with a magistrate. But if sorrow and distress brought me to it, I could speak the truth, I am sure, before any body. Don't be afraid, dear; think of me and your children, and go.

O Gertrude, said Leonard, I can't; I dare not. I am not an innocent man; the bailiff will hold me up all over the village for a fool and a sot. Oh Gertrude, I am not innocent; what could I say? and who would take my part against the bailiff, and say that he led me on? Oh Gertrude! I can't: I dare not. If I were to try, and fail, think how he would be revenged upon me!

G.-But if you hold your tongue, he will ruin you; you are sure of that. Leonard, think on your children, and go. L.-O Gertrude, I dare not. Dare you, Gertrude? For God's sake, Gertrude, if you dare go-go straight to Arner, and tell him it all.

Well then, I'll go, said Gertrude and she did not get an hour's sleep that night; but she prayed, as she lay awake, and was confirmed more and more in her resolution to go to Arner, the lord of the village.

Early in the morning, Gertrude took her baby and set off to walk to the castle, which was four miles off.

Arner happened to be sitting under a lime tree that stood by the castle door, when Gertrude came up. He saw the baby in her arms, and read a tale of suffering and sorrow in her countenance.

He asked her who she was, and what she wanted, in a tone so kind, that Gertrude took courage to speak.

I am Gertrude, she said, the wife of Leonard, the bricklayer, down at Bonnal.

Then you are a good woman, said Arner: I have observed your children; they are better behaved and more respectful than any children in the village, and they seem better brought

up; and yet I am told that you are very poor. that you want, my daughter?

What is it,

O Sir, my husband has owed Hummel, the bailiff, thirty florins this long time-and it is a hard-hearted man, that Hummel he tempts him to play and get through all he has : and my husband is afraid to keep away from his tap; so that almost every day he is obliged to spend there all his wages and his children's bread. We have seven children, Sir, to support; and without advice and help against the bailiff we must go about begging, before it's long. I know, Sir, that you feel for the fatherless and the widows, and so I have taken the liberty to come up and tell you all our misery. I have brought with me all I had laid by for my children, with the intention of putting it in your hands and begging you to prevent the bailiff from oppressing and plaguing my husband, till he is paid.

Arner had long suspected Hummel. He at once felt the truth of this complaint, and the wisdom of the request that accompanied it. He took a cup of tea which stood before him, and said; Have you had your breakfast, Gertrude? Drink this cup of tea, and give your fine little baby some of this milk.

Gertrude stood blushing before him. This kindness went to her heart, and she could not hold her tears.

Arner now made her tell him all the doings of the bailiff and his companions; and the cares and sorrows of many years. He listened to her attentively, and at last asked. But Gertrude, how could you keep your savings through all these difficulties?

Ah! said Gertrude, it was not an easy matter, Sir; but I looked upon that money as if it were none of mine; it was as if somebody had given it me on his death-bed to keep for his children. This was how I looked upon it; and so, if I was ever forced to touch any of it to buy bread for my children, I had no peace till I had made it up again by working late at night, and put back all that I had taken from it.

But was this always possible, Gertrude?

O Sir, when we set our heart upon doing any thing, we can do more than one should think possible beforehand; and God helps us when things are at the worst, if we labour honestly to earn our daily bread.

Arner was greatly affected by the virtue and simplicity of this woman; he went on asking her question after question; and at last said--And where are these savings, Gertrude?

Then Gertrude laid seven clean little packets upon Arner's table; and each packet was ticketed with the name of the child for whom it was intended; and there was written on each ticket, when Gertrude had taken any thing out, and when she had put it back again.

Gertrude saw it

Arner carefully read the tickets through. and blushed. I ought to have taken off those papers, Sir.

Arner smiled and read on; but Gertrude stood ashamed, and was plainly disturbed on account of these tickets, for she was modest and humble-minded-and shrunk from even the least appearance of vanity.

Arner saw her distress, and felt the purity of that innocence, which stood ashamed to have its virtue and wisdom remarked. He put something more to each packet, and said-Take your children's savings, Gertrude, and I will lay aside thirty florins for the bailiff from my own purse. Go home now, Gertrude; I shall come down to the village to-morrow, and I will take care that he shan't molest you.

Gertrude could not speak for joy-she could hardly bring out a broken “God reward you, Sir," and then set out to carry back again her baby and her joy to the arms of her husband. She hurried on, she prayed, she thanked God all the long road—and wept tears of thankfulness and hope till she was once more in her cottage.

Leonard saw her coming: and he saw in her eyes the joy of her heart. Are you back again already? he said, as she came in-you have had good success with Arner.

How do you know that already? said Gertrude—I see it in your face, you good one, you cannot hide it.

That I can't indeed, said Gertrude, but I would'nt keep the good news from you a moment, if I could. Then she told him all Arner's kindness, and how he immediately believed her, and promised to help her. Then she gave the children Arner's present, and kissed each of them with a warmer and happier kiss than she had given them for a long time before, and said: pray every day, children, that it may go well with Arner, as you pray that it may go well with your father and me; for he tries to do good to all the people in the country; he tries to do good to you; and if you turn out honest, sensible, and industrious, you will be as dear to him as you are to your father and me.

From that time the bricklayer's children have always prayed morning and evening for Arner, the father of his country, as regularly as they have prayed for their father and mother.

Leonard and Gertrude made fresh resolutions for the management of their household, and the training up of their children in all that is good; and this day was to them as a holy festival. Leonard's courage waxed stronger and stronger; and in the evening Gertrude cooked him a dish that he was fond of for supper; and they both rejoiced together in the thoughts of the coming morning, and in Arner's promised help, and in the merciful goodness of their Father!

Arner too longed as much as they did for the next morning, that he might once again, as a thousand times before, stamp a value on his existence by doing good.

AN UNPREJUDICED SOIL.

THELWALL thought it very unfair to influence a child's mind by inculcating any opinions before it had come to years of discretion, or was able to choose for itself. I showed him my garden, and told him it was my botanical garden. “How so?" said he; "it is covered with weeds."- Oh," I replied, "that is only because it has not yet come to its age of discretion and choice. The weeds, you see, have taken the liberty to grow, and I thought it unfair in me to prejudice the soil towards roses and strawberries."

Coleridge.

AN INDIAN FARCE.

(Bartram's Travels in North America.)

[The latest book of travels I know written in the spirit of the old travellers, is Bartram's account of his tour in the Floridas. It is a work of high merit every way.-COLERIDGE.]

"AN occurrence happened this day, by which I had an opportunity of observing their extraordinary veneration or dread of the rattle snake. I was in the forenoon busy in my apartment in the council-house, drawing some curious flowers; when, on a sudden, my attention was taken off by a tumult without, at the Indian camp. I stepped to the door opening to the piazza, where I met my old friend the interpreter, who informed me that there was a very large rattle snake in the Indian