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and never left her niaster till she herself died of old age.

“ This happy family lived many years in Kent, and God blessed them in all things : as it is written, “In God is my salvation and my glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge is in God. Trust in him at all times, ye people : pour out your heart before him : God is a refuge for us.'" Psa. lxii. 7, 8.

At the end of this story was a prayer for faith, that we may be enabled to trust God with all our concerns; and a hymn to the same purpose; which you will perhaps like to use : I shall therefore put them both down here for you.

A Prayer. O Almighty God! thou that rulest and governest all things, and makest all things to work together for good to them that love thee ; give me that best of all gifts, faith, that I may trust entirely and only unto thee; for who ever trusted in the Lord, and was confounded? I am a poor ignorant child, and do not know what is good for me, or what I ought to wish for: but thou art all wise, O holy Father, thou knowest all things from the beginning even unto the end of the world: 7 therefore take me under thy care. Thou that sparedst not thy dear Son, but sentest him to die for me upon the cross, send now thy Holy Spirit to guide and direct me what I ought to do. While I am in this world, manage and settle every thing for me; whether I am to be rich, or whether I am to be poor, or where I am to live, or what employment or what work I am to do, I wish to leave to thee. O give me faith to trust entirely to thee, as the holy men of old and martyrs in old time did, and as thy saints do in this day; and let me not wickedly think myself to be wiser than thou, O Almighty God, art; and leave me not to follow my own wicked conceits, instead of obeying thy will, which is written in thy holy Book, and which thy Holy Spirit will explain to my understanding, if I am humble, and sincerely wish to learn thereof.

O Almighty Father; hear the prayers of a poor child, for whom thy dear Son died; and for his dear sake have mercy upon me.

· Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the
Holy Ghost, be all glory and honour, for ever and ever,
Amen.
“Our Father,” &c.

HYMN XX.
O God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,

And our eternal home!
Under the shadow of thy throne

Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is thy arm alone,

And our defence is sure.
Thou turnest man, O Lord, to dust,

Of which he first was made:
And when thou say'st the word “Returni

'Tis instantly obey'd.
“But I am with you," saith the Lord;

“My saints shall safe abide;
Nor will I e'er forsake mine own,

For whom the Saviour died.”
Through every scene of life and death

Thy promise is our trust;
And this shall be our children's song

When we are cold in dust.
O God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Be thou our guard while life shall last,

And our eternal home.

THE STORY IN LUCY'S BOOK. WHEN Henry had finished reading the story in Emily's book, Mr. Fairchild proposed that they should take a walk before they went home to tea. Accordingly they gathered all their things together, and put them in their baskets, and left the Primrose Meadow. They crossed the brook by a wooden bridge, and went up a little woody hill on the other side. When they came to the top of this little hill, they arrived at a place where a hut, or shed, was built, under the shade of a spreading oak tree. This hut had been made by an old gentleman who formerly lived in that country, but was now dead. From this hut you might see all the country round, with the coppice and Primrose Meadow at the foot of the hill on which it stood, and the brook winding through the meadow.-Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild and their children sat down at the entrance of the hut, and hearkened in silence, for a while, to the sweet singing of a nightingale not far distant. At length Lucy spoke.

" Papa, we have read Henry's book and Emily's book to-day; but there is another book still to be read.”

“Well," said Mr. Fairchild, smiling, “and what then? Cannot you read it to-morrow at home ?"

“ But it is pleasanter to read out of doors, papa,” said Lucy; "and we could see the hay-makers from this place, if we were to come here to-morrow.”

“ Yes, papa," said Emily ; “ we could indeed.”
“ And it is not so very far to come," said Henry.

“ What, you wish for another day in the woods ?" said Mr. Fairchild, smiling. “What does your mamma

say?"

“ I have no objection,” said Mrs. Fairchild, “ if you approve it, my dear.”

Accordingly, it was agreed that they should spend the next day in the hut, to read the story in Lucy's book; and the children went joyfully home with the thoughts of having another holyday. Early the next morning they made all things ready; and when they had breakfasted, they set out for the hut at the top of the hill. It was a lovely morning, and although rather warm, yet as they sat in the hut they were well shaded from the sun, and enjoyed a gentle breeze, which blowing over the hay-fields below, was very agreeable to the smell.

When Mrs. Fairchild and the little girls were ready to begin their work, and Mr. Fairchild had placed himself with his book at a little distance, on a green bank, on the shady side of the hut, Henry began to read the story in Lucy's book, and read as follows.

" THE ACCOUNT OF A LITTLE BOY WHO, THROUGH GOD'S GRACE,

TURNED HIS PARENTS TO RIGHTEOUSNESS. “ Every person who lives in England has heard of France. A small arm of the sea parts the two countries; but though a person may pass from England to France in a few hours, yet there is a great difference in the manners and customs of the French and English. A few years ago the French were governed by a king who had so much power that, if he did not like any person, he could condemn him to be shut up for life at his pleasure, and nobody dared to inquire after him. The religion of the French was, and still is, Roman Catholic.

“ About one hundred and fifty years ago," continued Henry, going on with his story, “there lived in France a certain great man, called the Baron of Bellemont; he was a proud man and very rich; and his castle stood in one of the beautiful valleys of the Pyrenees, not far from the dwelling-places of those holy people the Waldenses."

“ What are Waldenses, mamma?” said Henry.

“ Why, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild,“ many hundred years ago, when all the nations of Europe began to corrupt themselves by worshipping images of saints, obeying the pope, and following the Roman Catholic doctrines, a certain set of persons retired from the sight of the rest of mankind, and hid themselves in valleys, among hills: there they led innocent and holy lives for many ages, serving their God in purity, and resisting all the wicked desires of the Roman Catholics, who wished to turn them to their own corrupt religion. These people in some places were called Waldenses ; in others Valdenses; and some were called the Poor Men of Lyons, because there was a city called Lyons near their dwellingplaces.” • « The Baron de Bellemont,” continued Henry, reading again,“ lived in a castle not far from the valleys of the Waldenses. He had one daughter, of the name of Adelaide, who was very beautiful : and as she was to have much of her father's riches at his death, everybody flattered and seemed to admire her, and many rich and great men in France sought to marry her. The baron had also a poor niece living with him, named Maria. Maria was not handsome, and she was poor: therefore nobody who came to the castle took any notice of her; and her cousin Adelaide treated her more like a servant than a relation. Yet Maria was, in the sight of God, no doubt, more lovely than Adelaide, because she was a humble and pious young woman; whereas Adelaide had no fear of God. Maria had been nursed among the Waldenses, and had learned, with God's blessing, all the holy doctrines of these people from her nurse.

" When Adelaide and Maria were about twenty years of age, they were both married. Adelaide was married to the young Marquis de Roseville, one of the handsomest and richest men in France, and went to live in Paris with her husband, where she was introduced in the court of the king, and lived among the greatest and gayest people in France.”

“ Maria's husband," continued Henry," was one of the pastors of the Waldenses, of the name of Claude: he lived in a small and neat cottage in a beautiful valley: he was a holy young man, and all his time and thoughts were given up to teaching his people and serving his God. Maria was much happier in her little cottage with her kind husband than she had been in the castle of the baron. She kept her house clean, and assisted her husband in dressing their little garden and taking care of a few goats, which afforded them abundance of milk.

“When the Marchioness of Roseville had been married twelve months, she brought the marquis a son, to whom his parents gave the name of Theodore. This child was so beautiful, that he was spoken of in Paris as a wonder: and his parents, who were very proud and vain before, became more and more so. All the marchioness's love seemed to be fixed upon this child: so that when, at the end of two years more, she had a second son born, she showed no affection whatever for him, although he was a lovely infant, not less beautiful than his brother, and of a tender and delicate constitution.

“ When this little infant, who was called Henri, was little more than two months old, the marquis and marchioness undertook a journey to the Castle of Bellemont, to visit the old baron, bringing their two sons with them. The fatigue of this journey was almost too much for poor little Henri, who, when he arrived at his grandfather's castle, was so ill that it was supposed he could not live; but his mother having no love but for her eldest child, did not appear to be in the least troubled by Henri's sickness.

“ As soon as Maria heard of her cousin's arrival at Bellemont, she hastened over to see her, though she did not expect to be very kindly received. Maria, by this time, had two children; the youngest of which, who was more than a year old, and a very healthy child, she was just upon the point of weaning. When this kind woman saw poor little Henri, and found that his parents did not love him, she begged her cousin to allow her to

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