o
do? How was he to get this dollar removed from his conscience? He
could not send it back to the lady and tell her the whole truth.
Such an exposure of himself would not only be humiliating, but
hurtful to his character. It would be seeking to do right, in the
infliction of a wrong to himself.

At last, Mr. Levering, who had ascertained the lady's name and
residence, inclosed her a dollar, anonymously, stating that it was
her due; that the writer had obtained it from her, unjustly, in a
transaction which he did not care to name, and could not rest until
he had made restitution.

Ah! the humiliation of spirit suffered by Mr. Levering in thus
seeking to get ease for his conscience! It was one of his bitterest
life experiences. The longer the dollar remained in his possession,
the heavier became its pressure, until he could endure it no longer.
He felt not only disgraced in his own eyes, but humbled in the
presence of his wife and children. Not for worlds would he have
suffered them to look into his heart.

If a simple act of restitution could have covered all the past,
happy would it have been for Mr. Levering. But this was not
possible. The deed was entered in the book of his life, and nothing
could efface the record. Though obscured by the accumulating dust of
time, now and then a hand sweeps unexpectedly over the page, and the
writing is revealed. Though that dollar has been removed from his
conscience, and he is now guiltless of wrong, yet there are times
when the old pressure is felt with painful distinctness.

Earnest seeker after this world's goods, take warning by Mr.
Levering, and beware how, in a moment of weak yielding, you get a
dollar on your conscience. One of two evils must follow. It will
give you pain and trouble, or make callous the spot where it rests.
And the latter of these evils is that which is most to be deplored.

AUNT MARY'S SUGGESTION.

"JOHN THOMAS!" Mr. Belknap spoke in a firm, rather authoritative
voice. It was evident that he anticipated some reluctance on the
boy's part, and therefore, assumed, in the outset, a very decided
manner.

John Thomas, a lad between twelve and thirteen years of age, was
seated on the doorstep, reading. A slight movement of the body
indicated that he heard; but he did not lift his eyes from the book,
nor make any verbal response.

"John Thomas!" This time the voice of Mr. Belknap was loud, sharp,
and imperative.

"Sir," responded the boy, dro