hly worldly family, and supposing that Lucy must
be like her cousins in this respect. Miss Eastwood in this was acting
conscientiously; yet such a determined avoidance of those who appear
to be worldly in their principles of action, though founded on the
desire of keeping out of temptation, sometimes leads to great
mistakes. Real Christian sympathy may sometimes be found where from
circumstances there may seem to be least appearance of it; and even
where it does not exist, influence for good might be exerted over
those whom distrust must necessarily repel. He who sat with publicans
and sinners, while He enjoins His followers to be "not of the world,"
even as He was not of the world, cannot surely desire them to avoid
all opportunities, naturally occurring, of coming in contact with
those who may not be like-minded; and if Christians would always show
their true colours uncompromisingly, while coming near to others, as
God's providence opens opportunity, they would both do more good and
find sympathy and fellowship oftener than they expect.

Of all the inmates of her uncle's house, little Amy was the one in
whom Lucy found the greatest congeniality. Her readings to her, and
her teaching about Jesus, seemed to have satisfied a craving of the
child's little heart, and she drank in the truths which Lucy tried to
explain to her, with the eagerness of one who had been thirsting for
the living water. Indeed she needed very little explanation; it
seemed as if the Spirit of God was her teacher, instructing her in
things that might have seemed too deep for so young a child to
grasp,--though indeed there may be less difference than we often
imagine between the mind of a child and that of the wisest man, as
regards their power of comprehending truths that are too infinitely
profound for the greatest human intellect to fathom.

Amy had from her infancy been so delicate, that she had been in a
great measure confined to the nursery all her life; and not being
nearly so winning and attractive as Stella, she had never been so
great a favourite with her brothers and sisters, who, never having
taken the trouble of drawing her out, considered her rather
uninteresting. The death of a fine little boy, a little older than
Amy, had strangely had the effect upon her mother of making her turn
away, almost with a feeling of impatience, from the unattractive,
ailing child that had been spared, while her noble little boy, so full
of beauty and pr