always some ache or pain to talk of; I wish she wouldn't come in to see my mother so often. Sometimes, grandmother, I am afraid when I grow old I shall be like Mrs. Ford; for I am not contented, indeed I am not," said Jane, with a sigh.

"Come, tell me what is the matter," said Mrs. Wood, kindly.

"Why, now I have done going to school," replied Jane," I should like to be like Ann Ridley; she has no little brothers or sisters to mind, and hardly any work to do; and sometimes she comes over to see me, and wants me to go into the town with her; and then I can't, because mother can't spare me. And then Ann has such clothes, and I am almost ashamed of mine sometimes when I walk with her. And then I don't like much to have to mind the baby, it is often so cross and tiresome; and yet I like to help my mother too, for she works very hard for us. But I do sometimes wish that I had not so much needle-work to do. And then, when I am going to complain, I think of you, and wonder how you can be so contented, living as you do."

"I have been a long time learning this lesson," said Mrs. Wood," and I have been in a rough school; I will tell you more about that some day; but now, let us talk over your troubles."

"Oh, troubles, grandmother, now I am sure you are laughing at me; and you know mine are not real troubles," said Jane.

"Well, let them be what they will," replied her grandmother," they seem to be in the way of your comfort. I think you are much mistaken in fancying that Ann is happy because she has so little to do. I have seen her look very dull for want of employment. But supposing Ann was very happy, it is not a good thing to compare our condition with others. Our business is at home with ourselves, and we shall all find that we have a great many blessings if we do not shut our eyes against them. Alas! if we only had what we deserve, we should indeed be very badly off; but blessed be GOD, he pardons our sins for Jesus Christ's sake, and gives us all things needful-and many comforts too. You were complaining of

having so many little brothers and sisters; now you cannot tell what a comfort they may be to you when you grow up. You may always have friends in your own family, if you treat them kindly, instead of being left alone in the world, as perhaps Ann Ridley may be. When you have lived a few more years in the world, you will see as I have done, how very evenly God bestows his blessings. Every thing that seems evil, has some good with it. Now your brothers and sisters are troublesome, but when they grow up it will be quite another thing."

"Now let us see what was the next trouble. You said you could not always go out when Ann wished you, because your mother could not spare you. Ah! poor Ann," said Mrs. Wood, "I am afraid she is laying up a store of bitter sorrow on some future day; for instead of helping her mother, in the little she wants her to do, she almost always refuses, or is so cross if she does help her, that Mrs. Ridley never likes to ask her now; so that is the reason she has so much time to spare. I am sure she must feel very uncomfortable sometimes, for she knows her duty as well as you do. I am sure you feel a great pleasure in helping your good mother, and though I know you have a great deal to do sometimes, yet I am sure you enjoy play a great deal more than if you had no work."

"O yes," said Jane, "that I do, for I remember once mother said that I might have a whole day to do nothing in, just that I might try how I liked it; and I went over to Ann, and staid with her for a long time, and then I was quite tired of dawdling about the town, and looking into the shops; and when I laid down at night I was vexed to think of what an idle day I had spent, and some texts of Scripture came into my mind that I had learned at school, such as "Work while it is called. to-day, for the night cometh, in which no man can work;" and I had done nothing. Then I thought of another," While we have opportunity let us do good unto all men;" and what had I done? I was quite glad to be busy again the next morning. And yet, though

I do not like to be idle, I am not quite contented with my employments; oh how hard it is to do right!"

"Yes, my dear child," replied Mrs. Wood, " you will feel this more and more; but God's grace is sufficient to help us, and it will always be given to those who desire it, and pray for it with sincerity. But we must not forget your other troubles."

"Oh! grandmother," said Jane, "pray don't go on, I am quite ashamed already."

"Well, I believe you are almost convinced you are not so much to be pitied as you thought you were,” replied her grandmother: "however, it is not very late, and the evening is fine, so we may as well go on a little longer. You said you were ashamed of your clothes. This is quite a weakness, which I do hope you will strive against. It is true your clothes are very plain, but they are always neat, and your good mother takes care that they shall never be ragged. If people were to see you dressed like Ann Ridley, what would they think? -you would not be respected, because every one knows that your father has such a large family, that he cannot afford any money for finery; and fine clothes do not make people happy."

"No, I don't think they do," said Jane, "but we all like to be well dressed."

;

"To be well dressed," replied Mrs. Wood, a girl should be dressed in a way that suits her station in life and in this way, with care and neatness, every one may be well dressed if they please. Many people think Ann is too fine; for though she has no brothers and sisters, she is still only a shoemaker's daughter, and on Sunday she wears much finer clothes than the Squire's young ladies. Many people wonder who she is, and I saw a lady look so surprised the other day, when she heard that that was Tom Ridley's daughter, who had the pink flower in her bonnet at Church.

"Another thing which you complained of, was having so much needle-work to do. Now I really cannot pity you for this: many a happy time have I spent with my needle; for you know it does not take up the thoughts

so much as many other things, and when you are at work you may think over the hymns you learnt at school, and repeat some of them, and try to say over the Scripture you have learned, that you may have it ready against a time when you can take no other comfort."

"Well, I will try to do as you say," said Jane, “but I am afraid I shall soon forget it, and get discontented again."

"Then I will tell you what to do," said Mrs. Wood; "when you go to bed to-night, pray to God to give you his grace to help you to do what is right; beg of Him to incline you to be grateful for all your blessings, and to make you contented with your lot. And make it a rule never to complain; not even to me. Try this for one month heartily, and with good will, and I dare say by the end of that time you will be a happier girl. But it is getting late; good night, God bless you, my dear child 1; and may He help you to be all we wish to see you."

Jane kissed her grandmother, and wished her good night; she looked very thoughtful as she walked home to her father's cottage. Jane was the eldest of five children; she was just turned fourteen, and had left school about six months. Mrs. Wood was very fond of her grand-children, particularly of Jane; she lived near to her son, who kept a small shop in the village. She was quite a pattern of contentment, arising from Christian principles, which had been instilled into her in early life. Many people thought Mrs. Wood was very much to be pitied when they heard of the trials she had met with; but a complaint or a murmur was never heard from her lips; she was always grateful for the blessings and mercies bestowed upon her. It was a great comfort to her in her old age to live near her son and his excellent wife, who on their parts did all in their power to make their mother happy.

Mrs. Wood had noticed that Jane was very often complaining, and looking discontented, and something which she had said to her about it led to the conversation which we have just related. Jane used to go to her grandmother's cottage nearly every evening, to see if she wanted any thing in the village, and sometimes she would

bring her work in, and get her grandmother to tell her stories about former days.

"Well," said Mrs. Wood one evening to Jane," how are you going on now; do you feel happier than yout did?"

66

Why you know, grandmother," she replied with a smile, "I am not to complain. I think though, I am a little better; but it is not a month yet," she added cheerfully.

But, grandmother, I should like to know how you learned to be contented; it seems to me very hard. You said you were in a rough school, and you would tell me more about it some day. Now I know mother does not want me at home; I do so wish you would begin now."

Well, my dear, I have no objection," said Mrs. Wood. "In the first place I think I owe a great deal to the example of my own good mother, who always seemed cheerful and happy. My father was of a gloomy turn of mind, and always looked on the dark side of things, so if it had not been for my mother's cheerful temper, our's would have been but a dull fire-side. I recollect many of the things which my mother said to my father when things seemed to be going wrong, and I kept them in my mind, and they have been a comfort to me in many an hour of need. Sometimes she would remind him that life was only a journey, and every moment she hoped, through God's mercy in Christ Jesus, they were coming nearer to a better world. Sometimes she spoke of the sufferings which our blessed Saviour endured for our sakes while on earth; she said He had not where to lay his head, while they were sheltered from summer's heat and winter's cold; He was treated with scorn by the world, while they had many kind friends. Then she would talk of St. Paul's distresses, and repeat some of those short texts where he talks of " being sorrowful yet always rejoicing," of the "light affliction which endures but a moment,' if we take into our thoughts the number years and years that we may live in another world. She used often too to repeat this little sentence,

of

"

'The darkest day,

Live but to-morrow, will have passed away.'