heavy shower of rain. The big
drops began to fall, and an open shed, adjoining to a labourer's cottage,
offering me a seasonable shelter, I dismounted from my horse, and found
it large enough to protect him as well as myself.

The circumstance reminded me of the happy privilege of the believing
sinner, who finds a "refuge from the storm, and the blast of the terrible
ones, in the love of his Redeemer," which prepares him "a covert from
storm and from rain." I went in unperceived: the door of the cottage was
half open, and I heard the voices of a poor man, his wife, and some
children within.

I was hesitating whether to go into the house and make myself known, or
to enjoy in solitude a meditation on the foregoing comparison, which my
situation had brought to my mind, when these words, spoken in a calm and
affectionate tone, struck me with mingled pleasure and surprise, and
determined me not to interrupt the conversation:--

"Indeed, wife, you are in the wrong. Riches would never make us happier,
so long as the Lord sees it good that we should be poor."

"Well," replied the wife, "I can see no harm in wishing for more money
and better living than we have at present. Other people have risen in
the world; and why should not we? There's neighbour Sharp has done well
for his family, and, for anything I can see, will be one of the richest
farmers in the parish, if he lives; and everybody knows he was once as
poor as we are: while you and I are labouring and toiling from morning to
night, and can but just get enough to fill our children's mouths, and
keep ourselves coarsely clothed, and hardly that."

"Wife," answered the man, "having food and raiment, let us therewith be
content. And if it please God that even these things should fall short,
let us submit ourselves to God in patience and well-doing, for he gives
us more than we deserve."

"There, now you are got to preaching again," said the woman; "you never
give me an answer, but you must always go to your Bible to help you out."

"And where can I go so well?" replied the husband. "Is it not God's own
word for our instruction?"

"Well, that may be, but I don't like so much of it," answered she.

"And I do not like so little of it as I see and hear from you," returned
the man.

"Why, that book has taught me that it is an honour and comfort to be a
poor man, and, by the blessing of the Spirit of God, I believe and feel
it to be true. I have, through mercy, a