g. She saw his surprise and understood it.
"Fred," said she frankly, "I know what you are thinking of, but let us
be friends. Give me the gratification of helping you to this pleasure,
since I hindered you of the other. You won't be too proud, will you, to
have my help?"

Fred coloured. "Miss Schomberg," said he, "I don't deserve it of you, I
beg your pardon;" and thus they were reconciled.

Oh, it is not often in great things that we are called upon to show
that we love our neighbour as ourselves. It is in the daily, hourly,
exercise of little domestic virtues, that they who truly love God may be
distinguished from those who love him not. It was not because Emilie was
naturally amiable or naturally good that she was thus able to show this
loving and forgiving spirit. She loved God, and love to him actuated
her; she thus adorned the doctrine of her Saviour in all things. Young
reader there is no such thing as a religion of words and feelings alone,
it must be a religion of _acts_; a life of warfare against the sins that
most easily beset you; a mortification of selfishness and pride, and a
humble acknowledgment, when you have done your _very best_, that you are
only unprofitable servants. Had you heard Emilie communing with her own
heart, you would have heard no self gratulation. She was far from
perfect even in the sight of man; in the sight of God she knew that in
many things she offended.

It is not a perfect character that I would present to you in Emilie
Schomberg; but one who with all the weakness and imperfection of human
nature, made the will of God her rule and delight. This is not natural,
it is the habit of mind of those only who are created anew, new
creatures in Christ Jesus.

This you may be sure Emilie did not fail to teach her pupil; but a great
many such lessons may be received into the head without one finding an
entrance to the heart, and Edith was in the not very uncommon habit of
looking on her faults in the light of misfortunes, just as any one might
regard a deformed limb or a painful disorder. She was, indeed, too much
accustomed to talk of her faults, and was a great deal too easy about
them.

"My dear," Emilie would say after her confessions, "I do not believe you
see how sinful these things are, or surely you would not so very, very,
often commit them." This was the real state of the case; and it may be
said of all those who are in the habit of mere confessions, that they do
not believe