path, and, as often happens, from a most unexpected quarter. One of the tradesmen connected with a large shop at which she bought her goods was going to open a small one at some little distance, and Mrs. White's knowledge of the business being mentioned to him, he at once engaged her to take charge of it for him. This lifted her at once out of all her difficulties, and with a thankful heart she accepted it. God had indeed heard and answered Miriam's prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread." A Wilful Child and a Wonderful Dream. A TRUE TALE OF THE PERSECUTION UNDER CHARLES II. BOUT the year 1672, when it was made felony for any of the Nonconformists to preach even in their own houses, there lived, at Croglin in Cumberland, a good old minister named Mr. John Rogers. He was a Puritan of the old stamp, sound and serious, but one who had endeared himself to all good men, by his piety, his hospitality, his kind manners, and his catholic spirit. He disliked all narrow, uncharitable ways, and lived on terms of intimacy with the whole of the neighbouring clergy. And great was the good he had done in the district. Indefatigable in his labours, the venerable pastor might often be seen, in the depth of winter, struggling, in the face of drifting snow, over the mountains and moors of Teesdale and Waredale, to minister to the poor miners in those places. But, with all his gentleness, Mr. Rogers could be bold as a lion in the cause of his Master. When, by the Bartholomew Act of 1662, he was ejected from his church, he surrendered the living without a murmur; but "silenced" he would not be. Conscientiously persuaded that it was his duty to "hearken to God rather than unto men," he con tinued to "teach and preach in the name of the Lord Jesus' wherever he could find an opportunity. Fidelity like this was sure to expose any man to the wrath of the government of those days, and Mr. Rogers was arrested by an order from Sir Richard Cradock, who was quite ready to enforce the law against the obnoxious Nonconformists. The process was very summary. On the testimony of two worthless fellows who were paid as informers, Mr. Rogers was found guilty of having preached in a private house, and two or three of his people of having been present on the occasion, for which crime they were adjudged to imprisonment. While the mittimus or order for their incarceration was being made out in the justice's room, a sprightly little girl, the granddaughter of Sir Richard, came dancing into the hall where they were awaiting their doom. Like too many grandchildren, she had been greatly indulged, and was of such a violent and wilful temper that on one occasion she had run a penknife into her arm on being refused something upon which she had set her heart. Mr. Rogers, who was fond of children, took notice of her, lifted her on his knee, and gave her sweetmeats. At length, looking up in his face, the child asked, "What are you here for, sir ?" "Your grandpapa," said Mr. Rogers, "has sent for me and my friends here, to put us all in jail." "And for what is he going to put you in jail?" asked the little lady. "For nothing else," replied the minister, "but because I was preaching the gospel, and these poor men were hearing me." "But my grandpapa will not send you to jail!" cried the girl. 66 Ay, but he will," said Mr. Rogers, "for he is just now making out our mittimus.” Instantly she flew upstairs to Sir Richard's room, and finding it locked, she knocked with her feet, hands, and head, till she gained admission. 66 Why are you about to send that good old gentleman down in the hall to jail?" she demanded. to any such place." "He shan't go "and mind your "Be quiet," returned the old justice, own business. To jail I shall send him immediately." "Then if you do," replied the little creature in a terrible passion, "I'll go and drown myself in the pond, as soon as they are gone; I will indeed!" And she ran off to execute her threat. There was no help for it: Sir Richard came down with the mittimus in his hand, and told them they were at liberty to go. "You owe your release," he said, to that ungovernable child." Mr. Rogers thanked his worship for the favour, but stepping forward, laid his hand on the head of the little girl, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said in a tone of deep solemnity: "My dear child, may God Almighty bless thee. May the blessing of Him in whose cause thou hast spoken, though thou knewest it not, be upon thee in life, at death, and through all eternity." Years pass on; the good old Mr. Rogers has been gathered to his fathers; the Revolution has come; and the scene now changes to a mansion in London, the residence of a pious and wealthy lady who frequently entertained the Nonconformist ministers at her table. On one of these occasions, the story which we have above related was repeated by one of the guests, who said he could attest the truth of it, as he was the son of the old minister to whom it referred. "Is it possible?" exclaimed the lady of the house, "that you are the son of good Mr. Rogers of Croglin? The similarity of the names never struck me before; and now let me tell you something you do not know. The passionate little girl of whom you have been speaking was no other than myself." She then detailed to them her subsequent history, which was equally marvellous. Never, she said, had she forgotten the scene which had just been described the look and tones of the venerable minister, and the blessing he had uttered over her head. To that earnest prayer she considered her conversion in after life as the appropriate answer. She had long led a life of careless gaiety; but even while pursuing the pleasures of the world, she was haunted by an unaccountable melancholy | which preyed upon her spirits. Thinking it might arise from some bodily distemper, she consulted a kind physician, a man of piety as well as of science; who discovering from her conversation where the malady lay, told her that he had been in the same condition himself, but had been completely relieved by reading a certain book, which he would give her if she would promise to read it. Her curiosity being excited, she readily gave him her promise, upon which he presented her with a copy of the Bible. Though somewhat disappointed, she kept her promise, and read her Bible, with profit indeed, but without experiencing any abatement of her melancholy. At length she had a dream, which made such an impression on her imagination that she disclosed it to a female friend, on whose judgment and sympathy she could place the utmost reliance. She dreamt that she had been hearing a sermon, preached in a certain church, from which she had derived perfect comfort and peace. The sermon she could no longer recall, but the text she remembered, and the appearance of the church and the minister was distinctly impressed on her memory. She resolved to find out the place, and many a weary stroll had she and her companion in search of it; till at last being in the Poultry, they followed a crowd proceeding in the direction of a meeting-house in Old Jewry. The officiating minister there was Mr. John Shower. No sooner had the lady entered the church, than the whole scene of her dream was realized. When Mr. Shower entered the pulpit, she recognised in him the minister she had seen in her night vision; and she remarked to her friend, "Now if every part of my dream hold true, he will take for his text, Psalm 116th, verse 7th, Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee."" The psalm was sung, and the prayer was That sermon was Her soul did in offered, corresponding in every point with what she had dreamt; and to crown her surprise, the minister read out that very text as the subject of his sermon. the means of dispelling all her melancholy. deed return 66 unto its rest;" and she had reason ever afterwards to bless God for having "dealt bountifully" with her. Whatever explanation may be given of the apparently supernatural element in the above narrative, we cannot fail to admire the wonderful series of events through the instrumentality of which the benediction pronounced by the worthy old confessor of Christ over the sunny head of that spoiled and wilful child descended upon her in after life. Truth is often stranger than the wildest fictions of romance; and were all the wheels displayed of the machinery by which we ourselves may have been led to find peace and life in the Saviour, we might see more truth and mercy to wonder at in the fulfilment of the promise: "I will lead the blind in a way which they know not, and in paths which they have not trod; I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight: these things will I do unto them, and will not forsake them, saith the Lord." 66 Danger and Safety. ONCEIVE of a child passing over rocks, where there is scarcely room for his feet, where the path is so slippery that it is hardly possible for him to stand, and where there are precipices on every side, so steep and tremendous, that a single false step must of necessity cause him to be dashed in pieces. Conceive of a father guiding his beloved child in all this way, “holding him by his right hand," that he may not fall; and raising him up if at any time he have fallen, and preserving him from all the dangers to which he is exposed. our God with the soul that trusts in him. moment does he leave the trembling saint. Here you see ' Simeon. |