Such, in a very simple case, is the difference between Feeling and Principle. The one obeys God; the other obeys her own impulses, and relieves misery because she cannot bear to see it. As a consequence of this difference in the very nature of their benevolence, many results follow in respect to the character of their efforts.

THE ORPHAN'S BEST TREASURE.

Two little boys, decently clothed, the oldest appearing about thirteen and the younger eleven, called at the lodginghouse for vagrants in Warrington, for a night's lodging; the keeper of the house very properly took them to the vagrants' office to be examined, and, if proper objects, to be relieved. It appears that but a few weeks had elapsed since these

poor little wanderers had resided with their parents in Lordon. The typhus fever, however, in one day carried off both father and mother, leaving the orphans in a wide world, without home and without friends. Immediately after the last tribute had been paid to their parents' memory, having an uncle in Liverpool, they resolved, poor and destitute as they were, to go and throw themselves upon his protection. Tired, therefore, and faint, they arrived in Warrington on their way. Two bundles contained their little all. In the younger boy's pocket was found, neatly covered, and carefully preserved, a Bible. keeper of the lodging-house, addressing the little boy, said, "You have neither money nor meat, will you sell me this Bible? I will give you 5s. for it." "No," exclaimed he (the tears rolling down his youthful cheeks), "I'll starve first!" To try him still further, 6s. were offered for

The

the Bible. "No," said he, "for it has been my support all the way from London. Hungry and weary, often have I sat down by the way-side to read my Bible, and have found refreshment from it." He was then asked, "What will you do when you get to Liverpool, should your uncle refuse to take you in?" The reply may excite a blush in many young Christians. "My Bible tells me," said he, "when my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up." The next morning these refreshed little wanderers rose early, dressed themselves, and set out for the town of Liverpool.

D

THE DISINTERESTED BOY.

It was just at night. The sun had set and the curtains of night were fast hanging themselves over hill-top and valley and lonely wood, and the busy village. While the night-winds were beginning to sweep through the trees, lights were here and there peeping through the windows to tell that though the wind was cold and blustering without, there might be peace and comfort within.

At this hour, Mr. Bradley passed through a little village among the hills of New Hampshire, and urging his horse forward as the night became darker, took his way through the main road towards the next town, where he intended to pass the night. As he passed the last house in the village he thought he heard some one call, but, supposing it might be some one shouting to his fellow,

he thought little of it. He heard the call again and again; and at last, on hearing it repeated several times in succession, it occurred to him that some one might wish to speak to him, and he slackened the pace of his horse and looked behind the chaise, to see if he could discover who was calling.

Stop, sir! stop!" said a little boy, who was running with all his might to overtake him.

Mr. Bradley stopped his horse, and a little boy of eight or ten years came up, the blood almost ready to burst from his face, and panting at every breath.

"Well, my little fellow, what do you wish for?" said Mr. Bradley.

"You are losing your trunk, sir," answered the boy, as soon as he could speak.

"And so you have run all this way tell me of it; have you, my good boy?" "Yes, sir."

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