There was a long, dreary silence; while each sorrowstricken heart took its first look into a future of poverty; doubtless magnifying its trials, and seeing nothing in the gloom to cheer or strengthen for endurance.

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There was one, however, on whose mind a light independent of things temporal had lately dawned; and though at first she shrank like the others from the prospect before her, she soon turned again to the bright character and example of Him who "endured the cross" for her; and "looking unto Jesus," she traced his obedient steps through his life of hardship, until she seemed to hear him saying, "The cup that my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" and standing by the side of Jesus, accepting from his hand the cup of his providence, mixed by unerring wisdom and unchanging love," sustained by his strength, cheered by his sympathy-should not she drink it without a murmur, nay more, with acquiescent will? Yes, Charlotte Derwent could understand a meaning now in words which she only admired in prosperity, but which needed adversity to impress with Divine power upon her soul. She would drink of the cup, and, among its ingredients of temporary bitterness, would find a sweet drop of surpassing pleasure, in the call and the power to help and comfort others.

"Mamma," said she, laying down her work, we shall soon think of some way to support ourselves, never fear. A smaller house, less luxury than we have enjoyed, does not necessarily mean want, you know;" and kneeling on the footstool at her mother's feet she tried to caress away the look of misery which had settled on the harassed face. "Support yourselves?" she murmured; "my children seek employment for money?"

"Yes, dear mamma, why not? We were not sent into the world to be idle; and it is only just doing things for reward instead of for pleasure."

"And what would you do?"

"I was just glancing down that newspaper to see what is wanted in the busy world; and there seem several things that we can do if we try. Will you read two or three of those advertisements, Fanny?"

Fanny, with a despairing tone, read the one to which Mrs. Warren's pleased attention had been drawn. " Do you mean that you would take such a situation as that, Charlotte?" exclaimed Fanny.

"No; I am not equal to its requirements; but I thought you might consider it for yourself, dear Fanny."

"I will go nowhere but into a nobleman's family, if I am to do anything of the kind," said Fanny, proudly.

"But you would not be received as a noble lady, sister; and I think you would be happier among your equals. But never mind; read on, and you will come to something that, with mamma's leave, I should like to reply to."

"You surely do not mean this, Wanted, a female teacher for a national school. Salary 50l. with two rooms.' A national schoolmistress, Charlotte! you must be mad to dream of such a thing," exclaimed Mrs. Derwent, now thoroughly roused.

"I think I could conscientiously undertake it, dear mamma," pleaded Charlotte. "I have taught in our Sunday school, and while the teacher was ill, I managed the day school also. The children seemed pleased, and so was I."

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Very likely, but they were pleased because you were a lady bestowing your time and interest upon them; and you were pleased because you knew you were doing a great kindness. As a hired teacher both you and they would feel very differently. But it is absurd to think of. You have a position to maintain; and who would ever notice you as a national schoolmistress ?"

"The Lord and Master of all schools where his truth is taught would notice his willing servant, mother," said Charlotte, meekly. "And our position in life-what is it? We owed it to our dear father's supposed prosperity; and now it is our duty to try and adorn that which a new direction in God's providence allots to us. I don't mind much about the world's notice, mamma, if I give no real cause for its censure."

"Why can't you think of something in your own sphere, child?"

“Because I am not sufficiently accomplished to undertake superior education; and so many things are required now which seem to me to need a lifetime to learn: but to train the children of the poor in truth and duty would be my delight."

"Now, Charlotte dear, I charge you with inconsistency," cried another sister, whose voice had not been heard in the family consultation: "I should have thought that you, above all of us, would have felt it right to make yourself

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fit as far as possible for a suitable position, rather than have talked about what you would delight to do. How often you quote that as our day so shall our strength be!"" Ah, but, dear Rose, we must be careful that we do not make our day,' or in other words our need, through any self-sufficiency or pride. What right have we to expect the help of God when we commit the dishonesty of taking upon ourselves deliberately, duties for which we know we are unfit? And when I spoke of delighting in teaching the children of the poor, I hoped it was because I thought I could do it best; but if any mere fancy of my own is behind it, I acknowledge it was wrong, Rose, and you are right to warn me."

"I don't want to warn you," cried Rose, affectionately: "it is dangerous to meddle with your crotchets, for you always make me ashamed of myself. I know you only wanted to make mamma think you are willing to do anything you can; but the fact is I hate to think of my sister in such a situation as that you have thought of. Oh, mamma, to think that we must work for a living! it is too miserable to bear: what can we do?" And again a flood of tears streamed down Rose's burning cheek.

Poor little mourner! the loving hand that had hitherto shielded thee from this necessity was in the grave now. A father's pride had concealed the precarious tenure of his worldly wealth. A mother's lavish love had delighted to surround her fair young daughters with all that made life seem bright and pleasant. The idea of want or hardship had never been allowed to damp the gay spirits in their springtime pleasures; and how could it be other than "miserable," to contemplate so sad a change? Better far to train our children "to bear the yoke" in their youth, and to give them wholesome knowledge of that portion of the sentence entailed by sin on Adam's race, and which in some form or other falls to the general lot. Too often the parent toils "in the sweat of his brow" that his children may "take their ease, eat, drink, and be merry;" and almost as often his designs are brought to nought, and notwithstanding all his care, toil and trouble come upon the dear ones he has left utterly unprepared for the burden.

Ambition and pride are allowed to fill the sails of many a bark to swift destruction, that the ballast of true wisdom and sober affection would have floated calmly over the sea

of life. The best legacy is that which supplies head, heart, and hand, with knowledge, principle, and means of industry; stimulating to self-reliance in action, integrity in practice, and usefulness in prospect; all most truly blessed when overshadowed and consecrated by the sought and trusted grace that directs the steps of those who "in all their ways acknowledge God," and "lean not to their own understanding."

THE LIGHT ON THE ROCK.

How pleasant it is to meet unexpectedly with a fellowChristian—pleasant, if he or she be influential or exalted among men, to find the grace of God triumphing over the snares and hindrances attendant on power, rank, or riches; but perhaps even more pleasant, to find in the heart of a poor, or afflicted, or lowly one, the same grace, patient in tribulation, submissive under privation, contented with all that He appoints whose name is "Love."

Wandering one summer's day along the banks of a river wide and navigable, though dangerous from sandbanks, some miles from the sea, we came to a range of rough uplands, terminating at a bend in the river in a sharp, bold, lofty rock. On its summit was perched a lighthouse, something like a glass birdcage hanging in the air; and it was not until we had scrambled to the top by means of steps cut in the rock and huge fallen masses rising one above another, that we found a piece of table land behind the promontory, on which stood a small white cottage close to the lighthouse, the dwelling of the keeper. Here we stood a long time looking down on the then placid water, watching the various boats and small ships which carefully threaded their way among the sandbanks, and thinking how very needful in stormy weather, and the darkness of night, was the little beacon overhead.

Presently a young man apparently not more than twenty-four or twenty-five years of age appeared close beside us, leaning on crutches. He had only one leg, and it was perfectly startling to see him mount the dizzy flight of wooden stairs that led up to the lantern, where he went to arrange something for the light. When he returned, apparently unconscious of having performed anything remarkable, we engaged him in conversation, and the

modest propriety of his speech and manner was very striking. His countenance was gentle and prepossessing, and something indicated a refinement and polish beyond his present station. What was that something?

Our party being intent on scrambling among the huge fragments of rock, I remained to converse alone with our new acquaintance, and led him to speak of the accident which had deprived him of a limb. His leg had been injured by the fall of a spar on board a steamer in which he served as one of the crew; and on being taken to the hospital, it was found needful to amputate. His employers, with the kindest interest and most considerate liberality, provided for him until his health was restored, and then procured for him the situation he now held. Such were the simple temporal facts of his history; but how much was linked with them which gave them eternal importance!

A pleasing delicate-looking young woman who came forth from the cottage was his wife; and he accounted for her fragile appearance by saying that at the time of his accident she was lying dangerously ill herself, unable to be near him, and that sickness and anxiety had so reduced her that she had yet scarcely recovered from their effects. Added to this, his father, a most affectionate parent, who hastened to the hospital on hearing of his son's trouble, was so shocked at the change in his appearance, and the news of the operation contemplated as the only hope of saving his life, that, after tenderly bending over him for a few sad moments, he left the hospital, staggered across the street to a shop, asked for a little water, and sat down and died.

"I did not know of this for two or three weeks," said the young man, dashing away a tear with his jacket sleeve: "when they told me at last, it was dreadful. You see, ma'am, though we are not very old we have had some trouble."

"And may I ask if you, either or both, know who is a very present help in trouble?'”

Instantly both their countenances lighted up with most beautiful animation, as he replied, "Oh yes, ma'am, praise to his name, it was trouble brought him to us in pity and love."

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Tell me about it," I exclaimed with delight; shall understand each other."

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"I was a godless sinner, ma'am, up to the time of my