SUSAN GRAY. lly

Mrs. Neale’s Bible, and read the account of
the sufferings and death of my blessed Saviour,
and, also, the history of the holy martyr Ste-
phen, who was stoned to death, and of other
prophets and good men who had endured very
great pains and sorrows, and had laid down
their lives for the sake of their God.

And when I had read these things, I thought
no more of my own light afflictions, that is, I
felt no more disposed to repine and murmur at
them, although, in spite of all I could do, I
could not shake off the sorrow which sat heavy
upon my heart; and what, perhaps, made me
less able to do so was, that, from being so long
out in the wet, and from having gone to bed
without having had time to dry myself suf-
ficiently, I had caught a bad cold, which made
me feel very ill, although I could scarce tell
what particular ailment I had.

When I had done reading, I went into the
kitchen, where I found the family at breakfast.
The mistress of the house, seeing me look ill,
offered me a dish of tea, which I did not refuse.
I shall remember her kindness to my dying day,
and never will in my prayers forget to ask God's
blessing for her; any other return I cannot
make her.

After breakfast, I sat down on a bench in the
chimney-corner; for, although the weather was
very warm, yet J shivered with cold, like one
in a fit of the ague.

My landlady seemed to be very sorry for
me, and asked me if I had long been ill. I
answered, as I then believed, that | had only