"it has rendered them more familiar, and less grateful; it has made them speak of me in the most disrespectful manner, and give me a character which I do not deserve."

"Well, it is certainly very painful to be treated in such a manner by those to whom we show attachment and kindness; but are we not sometimes apt to put a higher value upon the little charitable acts we may do to others, than upon those which others do to us? Are we, as mistresses, not inclined to think that every piece of kindness we show to our servants is so much into the bargain besides the wages they receive, whilst we do not take any kindness that we may receive from them into the account at all ?"

"You surprise me, Miss Mildmay."

"Do I, my dear; but I think I have seen Jessie do one or two gratuitous kindnesses to you, even since I have been here on this present visit."

"Have you?" asked Mrs. Desmond, with open-eyed amazement.

if

Yes; but I shall only mention one of them. Didn't she ask you she should put down the window, as you had been complaining of having a slight cold; and didn't she voluntarily do it herself, for fear it might be a cause of making you feel uncomfortable ?"

"Yes, she did.”

"Well, these were acts of pure spontaneous kindness on her part, for she needed not to have done either of them

"Yes, yes, of course they are only trifles, which I perceive you think of no moment whatever," interrupted Miss Mildmay; "but I see in them a very great deal. They are such kindnesses as her situation can only put it in her power to do; but we should take them as indications of a disposition that would do more had it only the means to do it with." "I certainly never before looked upon them in that light," said Mrs. Desmond, smiling, and looking as if she had been suddenly relieved from a painful feeling.

"Perhaps not; but a little thought will show you that much kindness is voluntarily done by servants, who are not bound by any bond of agreement to do it. Tell me, however, what were the exact words which Jessie and the cook used to you?"

"Oh, they did not speak them exactly to me. They only spoke them of me."

"Oh, then, you were not with them in the kitchen when they spoke

them ?"

"No; I was at the top of the kitchen staircase, and they spoke them so loud that I heard them as I was passing," said Mrs. Desmond.

“Of course, you are quite certain that they were speaking of you?" said Miss Mildmay, after a thoughtful pause.

"Well, I am not quite certain; but I imagine so: of whom else could they be speaking?"

Nay, that I cannot say; but did you hear your name mentioned ?" "No, I did not.'

"What were the exact words?"

Mrs. Desmond repeated them; but a great deal of her anger seemed to have evaporated by the doubts which the catechising manner of Miss Mildmay had engendered in her breast.

"Now, I dare say, after all, the offensive words have had no reference to you whatever," exclaimed Miss Mildmay, laughing; "but even if they had, they are of very little consequence. Just think, for a moment, what our famous 'Book of Wisdom' says 'Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, lest thou hear thy servant curse thee; for oftentimes also thine own heart knoweth that thou thyself likewise hast cursed others.' Is not this true? Does it not suggest to your mind that I have been here sitting, this half-hour, hearing you accuse your poor servants of ingratitude and indiscretion, of bad temper and sullen looks; whilst they may have been innocent of both. But, supposing they have not been entirely innocent, you have just been doing what they had been doing, and confirming the truth of the quotation I have just made."

"So I have," said Mrs. Desmond; "I quite agree with you; and I shall, for the future, take no heed unto words spoken in such a manner, as I see they may proceed only to relieve an offended breast, but with no evil intention."

"If you do so, you will have to thank me for putting you in the way of taking a wise step towards the advancement and the preservation of your happiness," said Miss Mildmay, rising to take her leave.

"And if I do (which I am sure I shall try to do), it will not be the first wise step I have taken by your direction; and I sincerely hope it will not be the last," returned Mrs. Desmond, as her friend affectionately kissed her, and bade her adieu.

"I declare, I always feel myself like another person after a chat with that sweet creature," said Mrs. Desmond, as she heard Miss Mildmay cheerfully speaking to Jessie; who was, like her mistress, always glad to see her, and who, therefore, never failed to show her all the attention

she could. After she had gone, Jessie ran up-stairs to her mistress, her face beaming with smiles, and saying

"Please, ma'am, I did not like to ask when Miss Mildmay was present, but didn't you ring your bell just at the same time that she came to the door ?"

"I did, Jessie; but "

"O dear! excuse me, ma'am; but see how the water is dropping from the leaves of those roses on the beautiful stand; let me wipe them off with my apron; the vase is too full."

out.

Mrs. Desmond was about to lift the vase and pour some of the water

"Allow me, ma'am," cried Jessie; "if you get the water upon your hands, you may take a shiver from the cold you have got upon you." Here is a piece of kindness, thought Mrs. Desmond.

"I myself," continued Jessie, "have had a dreadful toothache, on and off, this two or three days; and at night I have scarce got a wink of sleep with it, which makes my head as heavy as a sackful of coals, and so dull that I scarce can see sometimes."

"Dear me!" ejaculated Mrs. Desmond, and, within herself, readily accounted for the apparent sullenness of Jessie.

"The cook, too, is not much better. She has had rheumatism in the neck for the past week, and she is sometimes almost distracted with it," said Jessie.

"Bless me! we seem to be all in the way of affliction together," remarked Mrs. Desmond.

"Yes," continued Jessie, "all from colds; and I hope you will keep free of such pains. The cook got her's just with going out in the east wind to ask Mrs. Delfclay how much she would give for those old things in the back kitchen that you told her to sell; and she thought she would have got a good bit o' money for them, only the old woman is so stingy, although she is so rich. The cook says that she would sell her own salvation for a sixpence."

Mrs. Desmond nearly fell into her easy chair as Jessie closed the door at the word sixpence. "There!" said she, after reflecting alone for awhile upon the mistaken judgment-"There! the words were not spoken of me at all. It is just as Miss Mildmay said; and what will she think of me? Well, no matter about that. I deserve it all. I have been too hasty; and from this time forth I shall be less so in forming my judgment of things. As long as we live we may learn; and I have learned something to-day."

"Missus is in better spirits this evening," observed Jessie to the cook, towards the twilight.

"Yes, she is," coincided the cook; "I think she must have had something on her mind, which Miss Mildmay has driven away."

"I think so too, and I hope it will not come on it again," said Jessie, sincerely, and panegyrising her mistress to herself in such terms as would make the crimson rise to the cheeks of Mrs. Desmond, could she only hear the sentiments.

FAREWELL TO REVELRY.

YE sons of night, of mirth and glee;
Farewell, for once, for ever!

No more I'll join your revelry;

The hour is come to sever.

Too long you've been my friendly foes,
My health and fortune's ruin;

My path through life, with countless woes,
You've heedlessly been strewin'.

How fair the days of my youth's years!
How bright my manhood's dawning!

No blighted hopes, no dastard fears,
No Bacchanalian fawning!

A soul of fire, and unoppress'd,

A heart for any danger;

A ready hand for the distress'd,
And also for the stranger.

But cold, cold now that poor heart beats,
Which erst was warm with feeling;

My summer hour now fastly fleets,

Life's currents are congealing.

Ye friends, be warned by my career,
Remember Health's a treasure;

Be sober while ye tarry here,

And shun the God of Pleasure.

THE SUMMARY PROCESS.

FROM William's days to Charleses, from Charleses to ours,

There have been men of all the sorts of qualities and powers:

Some have been close; some have been free; some have been weak, some strong;

Some thick and fat; some thin and lean; some midsize, short, and long;

But, 'mongst them all, we cannot think there has been such a clod

As never felt the tender touch of the immortal God

Of Love; though some, we 've heard, if we do not mistake,
Have courted only for the love they had of wine and cake—
Not for the damsels' selves, to whom they made their vows,
And whom they ardently professed they wished soon to espouse.
The following narrates a case illustrative of this;

And damsels, in remembering it, may not do much amiss,

If courted they by sim'lar beaux, may, some time, have the luck,
And their mammas should serve them as Melinda's did her "Duck."
It happened in the "merry days" of England's fallen glory,
When the second Charles reigned. So now unto our story.

Melinda a lover in secret enjoyed,

But her mother dete. ted him quite;

And felt, when he visited, so much annoyed,
That she always kept out of his sight:
At length, he, one day, met her full in the face
In the lobby, as he to the bower

Of Melinda was hast'ning, with speedier pace

Than he'd ever shown under a shower.

"Hoh!--Hem!-Hah!-Eh!-whither so free and so fast?