ly that farmer Thomas who
turned you out of doors."

"Betty," said Mrs. Simpson, "I not only forgive him heartily, but I
remember him in my prayers, as one of those instruments with which
it has pleased God to work for my good. Oh! never put off
forgiveness to a dying bed! When people come to die, we often see
how the conscience is troubled with sins, of which before they
hardly felt the existence. How ready are they to make restitution of
ill-gotten gain; and this perhaps for two reasons; from a feeling
conviction that it can be of no use to them where they are going, as
well as from a near view of their own responsibility. We also hear
from the most hardened, of death-bed forgiveness of enemies. Even
malefactors at Tyburn forgive. But why must we wait for a dying bed
to do what ought to be done now? Believe me, that scene will be so
full of terror and amazement to the soul, that we had not need load
it with unnecessary business."

Just as Mrs. Simpson was saying these words, a letter was brought
her from the minister of the parish where the farmer lived, by whom
Mrs. Simpson had been turned out of the cottage. The letter was as
follows:

"MADAM--I write to tell you that your old oppressor, Mr. Thomas,
is dead. I attended him in his last moments. O, may my latter
end never be like his! I shall not soon forget his despair at
the approach of death. His riches, which had been his sole joy,
now doubled his sorrows; for he was going where they could be of
no use to him; and he found too late that he had laid up no
treasure in heaven. He felt great concern at his past life, but
for nothing more than his unkindness to Mr. Simpson. He charged
me to find you out, and let you know that by his will he
bequeathed you five hundred pounds as some compensation. He died
in great agonies, declaring with his last breath, that if he
could live his life over again, he would serve God, and strictly
observe the Sabbath.

"Yours, etc.
"J. JOHNSON."

Mrs. Betty, who had listened attentively to the letter, jumped up,
clapped her hands, and cried out, "Now all is for the best, and I
shall see you a lady once more." "I am, indeed, thankful for this
money," said Mrs. Simpson, "and am glad that riches were not sent me
till I had learned, as I humbly hope, to make a right use of them.
But come, let us go in, for I am very cold, and find I have sat too
long in the night air."

Betty was now ready en