a railway-traveller consults his Bradshaw or his Murray; but what are these guide-books to him, in comparison with the Bible to the traveller to heaven? If you get upon the wrong line, it is something-you may find yourself in Birmingham when you expected to be in London; but to neglect your Scripture guide-book would be a far worse mistake.

That she might never lose odd moments, she always carried a little hymn-book in her pocket, and kept her Bible within easy reach, so that she might frequently snatch a verse from the one or a text from the other.

Bad weather or trifling illness never kept her from church, and she was always punctual in her attendance at the sacrament. She frequently wrote affectionate letters to her brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, and sent them well-chosen books. Lest they should say, however, "Oh, here is only a book!" she generally contrived to send with it some other little present, that was sure to please. One of her brothers dying and leaving four little orphan children, who had already lost their mother, Ruth sent every shilling of her savings to contribute to their support and keep them out of the workhouse.

She grudged no trouble for the poor of Mr. Venn's parish, but contrived in many ways to provide them with food; and by boiling down the bones and remnants of meat left by the family, had a constant supply of broth ready for the sick. If anything was to be warmed up for a poor person, she did it with alacrity, never minding the having to clean up her bright saucepans again. On stated evenings fifty poor people or more used to assemble in Mr. Venn's kitchen for religious worship and exposition of the Scriptures, and terrible work did their dirty shoes make for Ruth on the kitchen floor in bad weather, but she never minded it, even when she had to scrape the mud off the chairframes with a knife. Neither did it vex her on Sundays

to have the kitchen filled between services with poor people who came from a distance to hear Mr. Venn, though she had to squeeze through them as she bustled about cooking the dinner; "for divers of them came from far," and, like her blessed Master, she had compassion on the multitude.

At length the time came when poor Ruth had to learn the lesson common to us all, that the Christian has not only to do the will of God, but to suffer it. She was attacked with illness of a distressing kind, which did not, however, induce her to give up her situation in Mr. Venn's lifetime. After his death, which was a deep affliction to her, a comfortable lodging was provided for her by his family, and here she passed the remainder of her days.

"I knew," she sweetly said, when she took possession of it, "that the Lord would provide for me; but I never expected anything so good as this!"

Now, retiring from business is more of a trial, sometimes, than people think. The rich merchant feels it as well as the humbler shopkeeper. Actors and actresses are proverbial for being unable to retire from the stage. There is a story of a tallow-chandler, who, on giving up his business, stipulated that he should return to it on melting-down days. The activity, the importance, the bustle, the sociability of acting in concert with other people, have something in them that we miss. So with a servant giving up service. The kitchen is a cheerful place. Yes; though the bell does ring, and work must be done, and done in other people's ways instead of our own; and though every day has its allotted portion of toil and care, besides a great deal that nobody reckoned on, but must be done somehow, (as when the chimney catches fire, for instance)-still the kitchen has its good fire and warm hearth, and snow-white floor, and bright saucepans, and ticking clock, and many a pleasant

word is spoken in it, and-the kitchen is a cheerful place.

Now, Ruth was but fifty-six when she changed her busy kitchen for her quiet lodging; and at first, it became a question with her, what she should do. She must be doing good, that was clear; so she began to bake pains with the children of the family with whom she lodged; told them interesting stories, taught them pretty hymns-so that the little creatures became quite fond of her. With many of her poorer neighbours also, she would talk on religious subjects, taking care to avoid sinking into mere religious gossip; which makes some people ready to fancy there is something improving in the mere mention of a clergyman or a church.

Finally, she prepared herself to die; which is best done by leading a good, useful, and holy life. She lived ten years after she gave up service; and after all, died, not of her complaint, but of an accident; being knocked down and run over by a horse.

Her last hours were very peaceful. She prayed a good deal-not long, wordy prayers, but little heavings of her soul up to God-asking Him to help her to bear patiently her little trials and pains, which she felt were so very little compared with those of His dear Son. She was not joyous; she had no rapture; but she was in perfect peace. She had no doubts or fears.

And so this good creature departed, in May, 1807, aged sixty-six. We need not ask where she went, nor to whom. As well might we expect to gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles, as to find the Lord's children anywhere but in the Lord's kingdom.

COX AND WYMAN, PRINTERS, 74-5, GREAT QUEEN-STREET, LONDON.

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