sidence was fixed in a distant land. This beautiful ornament did the handle of the broom demolish; it fell to the ground; and, in a moment, was the floor bespread with the fragments of its delicate materials. Poor Jane was horror struck as she surveyed them, and, in agony, flew to the housemaid to communicate her distress, and enquire what could be done to remedy so dreadful a disaster. Martha listened, in consternation, to the doleful tidings; and, then, exclaimed, in a rage, "why what a little awkward stupid thing you must be to do such mischief. I wish you had been out of the house before it happened, and why my mistress should ever have taken such an ignorant baby into it I cannot imagine." After venting her anger in these and the like expressions, the thought struck her that her own negligence and disobedience had been the principal cause of the accident, first, in setting Jane to dust a room which she had been specially ordered to take care of entirely herself, and, secondly, in placing her broom so carelessly as to admit of its doing injury, in case of a fall, to her mistress's favourite ornament; these however were private thoughts, and, with the readiness of practised deceit, she quickly changed her tone to that of sorrow and commiseration for Jane's sufferings on the occasion; and resolved, under that veil, to conceal the cause of what had happened, by means of a lie. She saw that the usual artifice of replacing the scattered pieces in such a manner as to escape being found out was impossible; her mistress would soon appear below stairs, and some plan must be immediately devised to screen herself, at least, from blame: which, with wellfeigned interest for her young companion, she thus proceeded to communicate. Don't cry so, my

dear, you have, to be sure, been very heedless, and would be turned out of your place, if my mistress should know you have done the mischief, that's certain,-but, never fear, you are a good girl in general, so leave the business to me, and I'll get you

out of the scrape. Nobody knows any thing of the matter except ourselves, so there can be no tales told; and, when we are called for, as we shall be, I will say a bird flew in at the window, and perched on the vase, or that the cat threw it down, or that a sudden gust of wind took it; or, in short, any thing that comes into my head that's most likely to deceive my mistress; and you have nothing to do but to answer that you were not here, and don't know any thing about it." The temptation was strong, but Jane's lips had never yet been stained by falsehood. She therefore rejected, with indignation, the base suggestion." Say I don't know how the accident happened! How can I be so very wicked?"— "Wicked, what do you call it wicked to say you don't know why nobody minds that." "I can't tell what other people mind, but I'm sure my dear father and mother thought that just as wicked a lie as any other, and I'll not say it; no, that I won't." Martha made use of all the arts of persuasion to shake her resolution, but in vain. "Well then, she exclaimed, you must get out of the scrape as you can, there's no serving those that won't serve themselves: when you have been in service as long as I have, you will not be so squeamish; what's the benefit of having a tongue, if it is not to be made use of in one's own defence; lying has served my turn many a time, and for my part I never yet found any harm come of it.""Then you will find harm come of it now," uttered a voice from under the window. The voice was that of Mrs. Grantley, who, attracted by the freshness of a fine spring morning, was taking a turn in her flower garden before breakfast; and, having caught the sound of voices in earnest conversation, approached the window of the room from whence it issued, and had heard nearly the whole of the preceding discourse. The destruction, with which she by that means became acquainted, of the beautiful specimen of art by which her apartment was decorated, would,

at any other time, have vexed her extremely; but her thoughts were now absorbed by the base propensity she had thus accidentally detected, in a servant, who had, during several years, possessed her entire confidence. She quickly entered the room where both were standing in terror and anxiety, al though from very different causes. On Jane, instead of reproaches for an act of inadvertence, of which, had her orders been attended to, she could not have been guilty, she bestowed the highest commendation, for the firmness with which she had resisted the too often alluring influence of bad precept, and bad example. The housemaid she commanded to quit her house immediately, and never to apply to her for a character; for that, in giving one, she should consider it her indispensable duty to mention the circumstance which led to her sudden dismissal. Prevari, cation and excuse were now alike impossible. She quitted the family the next morning, and never after. wards obtained a place in one of respectability. Jane rose, by degrees, to the rank of upper housemaid; which place she now fills, honoured and beloved by all who know her. It is nearly sixteen years since she entered the house of Mrs. Grantley, where there is every reason to suppose she will continue; so that, in all probability, her name may one day be added to the number of those, whose long and faithful services are honourably recorded in many of the burying grounds in this kingdom.

Reader, are you a parent? learn from this tale to "train up your child in the way he should go." Are you a child? reflect on the examples here set before you, and constantly bear in mind," He that walketh aprightly, walketh surely, and he that perverteth his way shall be known.""

Yorkshire, May, 1823.

A. Zu

ON THE IRREVERENT USE OF THE NAME OF THE CREATOR.

WHEN we think of the great Being who made us, who constanly watches over us, and preserves us; and who has, moreover, bestowed on us the great blessings of redemption, by which we are to look forward to a state of eternal happiness hereafter; we should suppose that the feeling, most natural to the mind of man, would be a devout regard and venera> tion for that SACRED NAME. This is what we should expect. And we should, moreover, expect that the thoughts of this GREAT BEING could never be long absent from our minds. A sense of devotion and reverence, then, would seem to us to be the most natural of all feelings. And yet this is exactly contrary to the fact; for nothing is, indeed, so opposite to the natural inclinations of fallen man. It is the hardest thing in the world to teach a man to be truly devout. Men will see the excellence of truth, and generosity, and kindness, and frequently of exertion to serve their fellow creature, long be fore they will be brought to a devout reverence for the SUPREME BEING. It is very common to hear persons, whose characters are considered correct and good, uttering expressions which plainly shew that a proper sense of religious reverence is not yet impressed upon their minds. We do not allude to such expressions as would generally be called: direct swearing, but to the use of the name of OUR CREATOR in common discourse. A person who has this bad habit must not yet believe that he has a proper sense of devotion, and no habit is more likely to keep away this sense.

"It is said of the learned Mr. Boyle that he never pronounced the name of the Supreme Being without such a feeling of reverence, as produced a complete pause and hesitation in his voice."

Nothing, it is said, so highly offended the late

Mr. Windham, as any careless or irreverent use of the name of the Creator. A friend, reading a letter addressed to him, in which the words "My God" had been made use of on a light occasion, he hastily snatched a pen and, before he would hear the remainder of the letter read, blotted out the offensive. exclamation: Bobovu d

It is related of the late Mr. Kemble, the actor, that, whenever the name of the Supreme Being was mentioned, either by himself, or by others in his presence, he always took off his hat from a feeling of reverence. This is the more striking, as he belonged to a profession by no means favourable to the exercise of piety and devotion. See rad od, Vens „-baim 190 morì đno di quol od 1876g

MY DEAR BOY,

16.992 Huo# FOR US15.01 b. mitowah * LETTER FROM A FATHER TO HIS SON, AN .bhai ải qulAPPRENTICE BOYyyethren ylio gibni lovatan sit of stienggo 92 Vit trobiod od: 2411 IN our last letter, we talked about King Henry the Fifth, and his great wars in France. The next king was. Henry the Sixth; but, at the time of his father's death, he was only a year old. The Duke of Bedford was therefore appointed protector of the kingdom, till the little king should be old enough to govern for himself. The Duke of Bedford continued to carry on the war in France; but things took so strange a turn there, that the English power1 in France, in a few years, came to an end This was brought about in a way so extraordinary, that it seems almost beyond belief. i 2077195 S 01 There lived, in a village in France, a country girl, called Joan of Arc, who had been servant at an inn; and, this girl had got a notion that she was fated to deliver her country from its enemies! She gave it out that she had particular messages from heaven on this business and this so inflamed the minds of the people that they were excited to wonderful deeds of courage; and this girl, clad in armbur, sword in