TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

'His love, no end nor measure knows,No change can turn its course;Immutably, the same it flowsFrom one eternal source.'

"Oh, how wrong is this feeling of discontent and weariness; this repining at my lot, when I know that it is all ordered by Him who is infinitely wise and good! And Oh, how many blessings I have, and yet how unworthy am I of the very least of them! 'Be content with such things as ye have, for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' Precious promise! what more do I need?"

Filled with such sweet and comforting thoughts, she entered the room where her aunt was sitting, with a light step and cheerful face. She was extremely surprisedto find Miss Prudence in tears. It was a sight so unusual—for it had always been Miss Prudence's boast that she was above such weakness—that Ella thought something dreadful must have happened.

"Dear aunt Prudence, what is the matter?" she exclaimed.

"Nothing," said Miss Prudence, turning away her face.

"Nothing, dear aunt Prudence? I am very sure it can be no trifle that movesyouso. My dear aunt, we two are all alone in the world; surely, you will not refuse me a share in your confidence."

"Go away, Ella! I told you it was nothing; can't you believe me?" replied Miss Prudence, angrily.

Seeing that it would be useless to press the matter farther at that time, Ella left her aunt, and set about getting tea, her mind all the time occupied with conjectures as to what might be the cause of Miss Prudence'strouble. Miss Prudence had never made a profession of religion, but she often boasted that she was "quite as good as any member of the church, and a great deal better than some of them; for she read a chapter in the Bible every day, and went regularly to church twice every Sabbath, rain or shine, which was more than some of the members did. She was a good neighbour, kind to the poor, never cheated anybody in her life, and always tried to do as near right as she could; and so she thought she had about as good a chance of going to Heaven as any of the rest." Indeed, she was very much like the Pharisee who prayed: "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are; unjust, extortioners, nor even as this publican."

Ella had offered up many fervent prayers on her aunt's behalf, that she might be led to see upon what a broken reed she was leaning; that God would open the eyesof her understanding, that she might become sensible how entirely without merit were her very best deeds, yea, even needing to be forgiven, hateful in the sight of God, because not done from any desire to glorify him, but from entirely selfish motives; and that seeing these things to be so, and how utterly helpless and undone she was, she might be led to lay hold upon the hope set before her, and accept of Jesus Christ as he is freely offered in the gospel, trusting in his merits alone for salvation. Could it be that her prayers were about to be answered? She felt a faint hope that it might indeed be so. The evening passed in almost total silence, for though Miss Prudence seemed restless and ill at ease, she was not disposed to talk, but appeared to be occupied with her own thoughts. Ella was wearied with the labours of the day, and had been nodding over her sewing for some minutes, when the clock struck nine.

"You had better go to bed, Ella," said Miss Prudence. "There is no use in trying to sew, when you can't keep your eyes open."

"I believe I might as well," replied Ella, folding up her work; "but you will go too, aunt Prudence, won't you?"

"No; it's no use, for I couldn't sleep," said Miss Clinton, leaning her head upon her hand, with a heavy sigh.

"Do your limbs pain you worse than usual to-night, aunt?" asked Ella.

"No, child, they're easy enough at present; but bodily pain is not always the hardest to bear."

"What is it that troubles you so, dear aunt? let me at least give you my sympathy, if I can do nothing more."

Miss Prudence remained silent, but Ella ventured again to urge her to confide her trouble to her.

"Ella," she said at last, "I used to say—and Ithoughtit too—that I was quite asgood as any of my neighbours, and quite as likely to go to Heaven as any of those who made a profession of religion. I considered myself quite good, and deserving of salvation; but lately my views and feelings have changed, and I seem to myself to be a very great sinner, so hardened and so wicked that it frightens me to think of it; for I don't see how it is possible that such a vile wretch can be saved. I'm afraid I have sinned away my day of grace, and I shall go down to hell."

"Dear aunt Prudence, listen to what God says, 'Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found a ransom.' 'This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.'"

"But not such sinners as I; remember how many years I have been turning a deaf ear to all his invitations; how oftenhe has called, and I have refused. Oh! these words are constantly ringing in my ears: 'Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamities, I will mock when your fear cometh.' O Ella, I am sure those words are spoken to me," she added, with a shudder, covering her face with her hands.

"Dear aunt, he says, 'I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.'"

"It doesn't mean me," she replied, with a hopeless shake of the head.

"'Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.' Dear aunt, those words are addressed to you as much as to any one."

Miss Clinton shook her head. "They might have been once, but not now, it is too late."

"Aunt Prudence, God says, 'I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he turn from his evil way and live.' 'Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die, O house of Israel?'"

"That's not for me, for I can't turn. I might have done it once, but now it's too late."

"Why do you say it is too late, aunt? Would you limit the power of God? Are we not told that 'Christ is able to save to theuttermost, allthat come unto God by him,' and does he not invite you to come? 'Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, andI willgive you rest.'"

"But he says, 'My Spirit shall not always strive,' and I can't expect that he will ever strive with me again, since I have resisted him, and grieved him away so often. No, it is too late."

"Aunt Prudence, I am sure he has not ceased to strive with you, or you would not feel the anxiety that you do. I believe he is striving with you now."

"No, Ella, you have no idea how hard, how dreadfully hard my heart is. Ella, fifty years I have lived in rebellion against God, I have given all my best days to the world; I did not seek God early, and now I cannot expect to find him."

"Remember the thief on the cross, aunt Prudence, saved at the eleventh hour. 'God is the Lord, the Lord God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and of great mercy, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.'"

"'But who will by no means clear the guilty,'" added Miss Prudence, "and who more guilty than I?"

"But aunt Prudence, he says, 'I have found a ransom.' Jesus says, 'Come unto me and Iwillgive you rest; you have only to come casting away every other dependence,and hewillreceive you.' 'Return unto the Lord and he will have mercy upon you, and to our God for he will abundantly pardon.'"

"No, Ella, not me. I have sinned away my day of grace, and now it is too late; there can be no more mercy for such a wretch as I."

"Aunt Prudence," said Ella, "the adversary of souls, the devil, 'who goeth about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour,' has long been successful in making you put off repentance, by persuading you to trust in a false hope, telling you that you were as good, and as likely to be saved as others; and now that he finds that he cannot make you shut your eyes any longer to the danger, he would fain persuade you that it istoo lateto repent and seek God. But don't—Oh! don't listen to his suggestions. It isnottoo late. Jesus stands ready to save you. Oh! come to himnow, for he says, 'I will inno wisecast out.'"

Miss Clinton sat for some time without speaking, her face buried in her hands, while Ella was silently lifting up her heart to God in her behalf.

"Ella," said she at last, "go to bed, child, and leave me; I wish to be alone now."

Ella bent over her aunt, and kissed her forehead, saying in a low tone, "Good night, dear aunt; remember, 'He is able to save unto theuttermost.'"

The next morning, Miss Prudence seemed more composed, but said nothing on the subject of the last night's conversation, and there was something in her manner which kept Ella from alluding to it. Weeks passed away, and gradually a change seemed to come over Miss Prudence. She seemed calm, and even cheerful, was more patient than Ella had ever known her, andspoke very gently and pleasantly, and Ella several times surprised her reading her Bible, and shedding tears over it; still she said nothing on the subject for some time.

At length one quiet Sabbath-evening when they were sitting together at the window, watching the last rays of the setting sun, laying her hand on her niece's shoulder, while the tears trembled in her eyes, she said, "Ella, I have begun to indulge a faint, a trembling hope that I have been born again, that I am changed; that with me 'old things have passed away, and all things have become new,' and that when my Sabbaths here on earth are over, I shall go to spend an eternal Sabbath in heaven. Yes, spend it in praising redeeming love,

'Amazing love! how sweet the soundThat saved a wretch like me!I once was lost, but now am found,Was blind, but now I see.'

"And it is toyou, Ella, under God, morethan to any one else, that I owe this. I have watched you for years, and have been astonished to see the careless, proud, self-willed, passionate child, change to the meek, submissive, patient, and humble young Christian. I had often said to myself that there was nothing in religion, but how could I doubt it any longer when I saw such fruits?"

"O aunt Prudence," said Ella, "I have often felt afraid thatIwas the stumbling block in your way that was keeping you from coming to Christ; for I have come so very far short in the performance of my duty, I have shown so little of the spirit of Christ."

"I know you are not perfect, Ella, but you are strangely changed, and I can plainly see that you are trying to serve God."

"Give the glory where it is due, dear aunt Prudence; but Oh, how happy I am!I feel as if I had nothing more to ask for, now that you, my dear aunt, will be my companion in my pilgrimage. God has heard my prayers. He is indeed 'the hearer, and answerer of prayer.' But, aunt Prudence, you had two much brighter examples of piety before you, in my mother and Miss Layton; did not the beautiful consistency oftheirlives convince you of the truth and value of religion?"

"I never knew them until years after their conversion, and when I was forced to notice how good and amiable they were, I said to myself, It is their natural disposition; but Iknewwhatyouwere by nature, so that that excuse did not avail me then, and I could not but acknowledge to myself, that nothing but the power of God could have wrought such a change. And I bless God for the affliction, with which he has visited me this winter, for while confined to my bed unable to do anything, and oftenwith nothing but my thoughts to occupy me, I seemed to be compelled to think of my past life, and to consider my latter end."

During the ensuing summer, Miss Clinton's health was almost entirely restored. She also recovered the money she had lost, and they returned to S——, to their old home. Mary and Ella were rejoiced to be once more near each other; able to take sweet counsel together, to walk together to the house of God, and together to talk of their common hopes and joys. All her old neighbours were surprised to see the strange change in Miss Prudence. The quiet, gentle, humble woman that returned to them, was so different from the loud, boisterous, proud and passionate woman that went away, that they knew not what to make of it. They all agreed that she was very much improved, but no one enjoyed the change so keenly as Ella. There was nowno discord in her home, but peace and love reigned in its stead. Aunt Prudence, from being her greatest trial, had become her dearest earthly comfort: formerly, they seemed to have nothing in common; now,

"Their fears, their hopes, their aims were one,Their comforts and their cares."

"Aunt Prudence," said Ella to her aunt, one day a few months after their return, "the school Miss Layton had when she was here last, is now without a teacher, and a gentleman was speaking to me yesterday about taking it; what do you say?"

"I think you had better not; there is no longer any necessity for you to exert yourself, unless you are too proud to depend upon me."

"I confess that I prefer being independent, aunt, though I hope it is notpridethat makes me feel so; but setting that reason aside, I still feel a desire to teach. I think that scarcely any one has more opportunitiesfor doing good than a christian teacher, and it is certainly our duty to do all the good we can; to use every talent in the service of our Master. 'To him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' You know I succeeded in my first effort so well, that the parents of my pupils urged me to stay, and continue my school; I think that proves that I have a talent for teaching, and if I have, ought I not to use it?"

"Think of the great, the solemn responsibility, Ella."

"I have thought of it, aunt Prudence, and I feel that it is averygreat responsibility; but would I get rid of it by burying my talent in the earth?"

"But, Ella, you used to come home looking so miserably tired, so completely worn out. I don't believe, my child, that it is your duty to work yourself to death."

"Nor I, either, aunt Prudence; but Idon't think it will kill me. You must remember thatthenI had the care of the house in addition to the school; and that I shall not havenow; and besides, as somebody says, 'I had ratherwearout thanrustout,' rather die of too much work than of too much idleness."

"Well, Ella, if you really are so anxious to teach, I will not oppose it; but as to your not liking to be dependent upon me, what difference does it make whether you take a part of my money now, or get it all at my death? for I have no one to leave it to but you, and it must all be yours at last."

"Don't talk about dying, dear aunt," said Ella, with tears in her eyes; "I hope you have a great many years yet to live."

"If it is God's will, I have no objection, Ella; but I hope we may both be ready whenever our Lord shall come; if we are only prepared, it will make very little differencewhenthe summons comes. But Idid not mean to distress you; I am perfectly well, and as likely, I suppose, to live to old age as any one else."

"Well, auntie, may I take the school?"

"Yes, child; if you wish."

So Ella taught school in the same town and in the very same room where she had been a pupil herself; and people said she was very much such a teacher as Miss Layton, which Ella considered the highest praise that could have been bestowed upon her. And shewaslike Miss Layton in her patient, gentle manner towards her scholars, and her earnest efforts to lead them to Christ.

"By theirfruitsye shall know them." Reader, what kind of fruit areyoubearing? "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit." Judged by your fruits, what are you? A good or a corrupt tree? Are you a careless, unconcerned sinner walking inthe broad road that leads to eternal death?—or are you treading the strait and narrow way that leads to life everlasting? Are you taken up with the things ofthisworld, living only for the present moment, careless of the interests of your immortal soul, and unconcerned about the forgiveness of your sins? Are you a slave to the law, trying to work out a salvation of your own, and merit heaven by your own good works?—or are you a loving child, serving a tender and beloved Parent, striving to bring forth much fruit, that you 'may glorify your Father which is in heaven?' "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God."

"We would no longer lieLike slaves beneath the throne;My faith shall Abba, Father, cry;And thou the kindred own."

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.

Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.

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