the self-respect, and make of any woman a lady. Our Saxon forefathers, who conferred the title on the bestower of blessings on those less favoured than herself, would be somewhat surprised to find it, as now, adopted by persons to whom it is permitted to be as idle, as selfish, as exacting as they please, provided they can afford to be useless in this working world.

But whether "a lady in mind and manners," or not, Miss Flora must assume to be such until she should betray the truth. The mother whose heart was intent upon the advancement of her children by any available means, imposed on the mother who was equally intent upon the benefit of her children in the school-room; and thus it came to pass that one so eminently unqualified for the solemn responsibility of the charge, became the inmate of Mr. Pemberton's family. Alas for poor Flora, whose "vocation" was thus misunderstood !

On her arrival, Flora Warren's youthful appearance rather disconcerted Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton; since they had, somehow, taken it for granted that the young lady's appearance and manners were staid and dignified beyond her years, while the valuable education she had received was to compensate for the deficiency of experience.

Poor Flora, in dread of humiliating betrayals in the drawing-room, concealed her ignorance very often by declining to mix with the intelligent circle assembling there, and spent many a weary evening alone in the school-room, where, rejecting the sympathy of her kind employers, she soon received that of persons unlikely to benefit or improve her.

The nurse was not long in discovering the natural tastes of the young governess, and often employed her ingenious fingers in work that passed her own skill, flattering and patronizing her until the two became intimately acquainted.

The eldest pupil, a girl about nine years old, was intelligent and fond of study, and soon found out that her governess was not. Her many inquiries in connection with her lessons, or suggested by observations in her walks, were all gravely referred to books for answers and explanations, and the child was soon repulsed into a kind. of opposition, which presently resulted in a disposition to annoy. She selected difficult questions, and in the presence of her parents boldly asked information from the

listressed instructress, whose heightened colour and dismayed looks too plainly betrayed her inability to afford it.

Mr. Pemberton observed this, and often skilfully came to the rescue before the victory of his provoking little daughter was complete.

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Minnie, dear," said Mrs. Pemberton one day, "I must come and help you to thank nurse for trimming your hat so prettily; she is becoming a first-rate milliner."

"Oh no, mamma! nurse did not do it at all. Miss Warren did it this morning while I was translating my French; she never tells me a word, but makes me look in the dictionary for everything."

"That will do you much more service than being told, my love," said the wise mother; but she was disappointed, and could not permit the matter to pass unnoticed. Gently and kindly she made Flora understand that such a mixture of occupation was neither expected nor desired, and Flora, greatly vexed, resolved, as she told nurse, never to do

another atom of work for the little tell-tale."

But temptations would come.

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A gay and fashionable visitor arrived to spend a few days with Mrs. Pemberton, and Flora's quick eye took in a variety of patterns and trimmings to be imitated the first opportunity.

One morning Minnie was reading history, when nurse looked into the room and beckoned Miss Warren away, the pupil being desired to practise in her absence. After rattling over the keys of the piano, Minnie was seized with a desire to know what nurse could want with her governess; she knew that her mamma and the visitor were out for the morning, so bidding the younger children be quiet and good, she commenced her inquisitive search. Opening the door of the visitor's apartment she heard voices in the dressing-room beyond, and with noiseless step reached the spot where she could peep unobserved through the crevice of the half-open door. There, before the tall glass, stood Miss Warren, with the visitor's bonnet and feathers on her head, while nurse was alternately expatiating on its beauty and doing her best to accomplish the pinning of paper on a mantle, ready for Flora to cut the pattern so soon as the construction of the bonnet had been sufficiently examined.

Minnie was charmed with her discovery, and escaped

unobserved; but her face was brimful of mischief the whole day after, and she could not possibly calm down to propriety until all had been told to her mother. The result was only what might be expected under the circumstances.

Mrs. Warren sat alone, with an open letter in her hand. looking very much mortified and annoyed. It was a kind letter, too, she could not deny that; but how provoking that her excellent management should be spoiled by the wilful folly of her child. Flora would return home at the end of the quarter; and now what must be done next?

While thoughtfully considering this point, a pretty pony carriage drove up, and two ladies who had not many months before settled at a beautiful cottage in the neighbourhood, were announced. Judging, with her usual discrimination, that Mrs. Bourne and her sister might prove useful to her children by means of their connections and influence, Mrs. Warren soon skilfully introduced the fact that she was seeking some happy and suitable "position for Flora.

"It would be affectation to pretend that my children have anything to depend on but their own talents and exertions," said she; "and I am much distressed to find that Flora has not been happy in her first effort from home."

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"I feared there might be some disappointment at first," said Mrs. Bourne, " for your daughter told us confidentially how greatly she dislikes children and teaching."

"Poor Flora!" said her mother, sentimentally; "she has yet to learn to bear the yoke in her youth, and to submit to the appointments of Providence."

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But, dear madam," ventured the visitor, "is it necessary to impose a heavier yoke than Providence seems to have ordained, by forcing effort into an uncongenial channel, while natural taste inclines to another direction equally honourable and perhaps more lucrative?"

"What is there equally honourable for girls in our station?" asked Mrs. Warren; "and surely the natural taste which inclines to degradation from the position to which their birth entitles them, ought not to be gratified."

"That is a point I should like to see well discussed," said Mrs. Bourne, smiling kindly; "whether is it the greater degradation to oblige young people to force themselves into positions for which they are unqualified, and which they will badly fill, or to permit them to occupy

their peculiar talent honestly and happily. But allow me to suggest an idea which has often occurred to me concerning large families of daughters with limited means. Suppose one were well instructed in the art of dressmaking and millinery, another made a thorough housewife in every department. Thus each would fill a place which contributed to the comfort of all. They could do at home what others have to be paid for doing for them; and they might also extend their talent for the benefit of friends who would gladly spend their money where it would be doing good, and where they would feel sure of honourable dealing."

“Dear madam, your scheme is utterly impracticable," said Mrs. Warren, incredulously: "surely you know that society would not tolerate such a mixture; and the lady who employed your daughter as her milliner would soon repudiate her as a friend or visitor."

"Then my daughter would probably have to choose between an occupation in life for which she is qualified, and the weak friend whose patronage would not supply the place of self-respect and self-reliance," replied the visitor. "But I should apologize for saying so much, Mrs. Warren, and beg you will kindly attribute it to interest in Miss Flora, whose views we might perhaps have forwarded, had they met your concurrence after the present experiment had been tried.”

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May I hope that you will not name to any one my foolish daughter's low fancy," said Mrs. Warren; "it might militate against her advancement in the only path open to her." "Her secret is quite safe with us," replied Mrs. Bourne. As Mrs. Warren accompanied her visitors to their carriage, Mrs. Bourne turned again, after a moment's hesitation, and with a slight flush on her pleasant countenance, "It is only right, I think," said she, in a playful tone, "to tell you that our ponies and carriage and house, which you kindly admire, and the income with which God has blessed us, are all, under him, the result of many years of patient industry as milliners and dressmakers in the city of We were not gifted intellectually; we were unexpectedly left to our own resources; we did what we thought we could do well, and were prospered."

The ladies were seated, the ponies trotted away, and poor Mrs. Warren stood somewhat confounded. Plainly these women had no proper pride."

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ENOCH'S PIETY AND RECOMPENSE.

BY THE LATE DR. LEIFCHILD.

"By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found, because God had translated him: for before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased God."—Heb. xi. 5. FROM the testimony of Jude we learn that Enoch was a prophet; and one of his prophecies, respecting the last judgment, is quoted by that apostle; and is thus affirmed by inspired authority to have proceeded from him in the antediluvian world.

But our apostle, in the text, speaks not of his gifts, but of what is of far more importance-his character. "Enoch walked with God," says the sacred historian-twice within the compass of a few verses. It is a comprehensive description of true and genuine piety, at all times. The converted man, in every age, communes with God, and God with him; and this so frequently, as to constitute a course. His walking through life is a walk or companionship with God.

It imports resemblance. "Can two walk together, except they be agreed?" And this communion promotes resemblance. Should I be supposed to keep company with a wise, sensible, and excellent person, if I contracted no wisdom or gravity, but retained the frivolities, impieties, and vices of the age? Nor can I be supposed to hold communion with God, if I am not "denying ungodliness and worldly lusts," and living "soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world."

"He pleased God." How? He walked with him; that is, daily. His walk was not marred, interrupted, as that of some Christians is, but was careful and close; and that for some hundreds of years. And God was pleased with him. 'For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright," Psa. xi. 7. "And he (Enoch) was not; for God took him," Gen. v. 24.

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"He was not." This phrase is sometimes used simply for dissolution. Some of the Jews were therefore of opinion that Enoch did die, and that Moses does not intend to intimate the contrary. But if so, why, having said in the same chapter, of Adam, that he died, and of Seth, that he died, does he, when he comes to Enoch, if he had died, alter the phrase, and say, "he was not?" Besides, this is introduced as a proof of his eminent piety and