FEBRUARY.

Look out, dear children, for the snowdrops, crocuses, and other sweet tokens that the winter is passing, and soon the sweet spring will come. But do not forget to think that with the true Christian the winter of earth and sorrows is passing, and the everlasting spring of heaven's joys is coming.

"There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers;"

while, with the graceless, the gay summer of the pleasures of sin is going, and the black winter of everlasting despair is coming. Which is your condition? Are you in possession of the fear of God, the beginning of wisdom?

ANSWER TO BIBLE ENIGMA,
PAGE 31.

"This year thou shalt die.”—JER. xxviii. 16.

THE words to Hananiah said

May now apply to me;

I might be numbered with the dead
In Eighteen Seventy.

Then let me ask before I die

If I am right for heaven? And if these words to me apply, "Thy sins are all forgiven.'

For if I die in sin I know

Heaven's bliss I ne'er shall taste;
But to the depths of endless woe
Must be for ever cast.

I shudder at the dreadful thought,

That I should have to be

From holiness entire shut out,
To all eternity.

Lord, teach me, should I yet live years,
To number well my days,

To shun sin's ever-hurtful snares,
And walk in wisdom's ways.

Choosing much rather to abide,
Afflicted saints among;

Than smoothly down the stream to glide
Of pleasure's dying song.

And may I every day I live

To Christ for refuge flee;
Who His own life did freely give
To set poor sinners free.

Then if this year should be my last,

I need not fear to die;

My anchor in the vail is cast,
My record is on high.

Е. Совв.

A LESSON FROM A BED-QUILT.

66

"I SHALL never forget," said a lady one day to me, my first, and I think I may justly say my last, theft." I entreated her to tell me the circumstances, which she did; and I will try to tell them to you as nearly in her own language as my memory will allow. "When I was between seven and eight years old I went to a dayschool in the neighbourhood, and nearly every morning on my way there I used to step in at Mrs. Bennett's to see her little girl Lizzie, the

dearest little thing that I ever knew, about three years old. One morning I found Mrs. Bennett making a dress for Lizzie of the most beautiful print; I thought it the prettiest I had ever seen. I had read foolish tales of fairies, princes, and genii, I thought it must have taken six of each of them to have composed and created such a lovely fabric. I wished I had a piece of it to put in a patch-work quilt which I was making, but did not like to ask for any. Oh how pretty it was! The longing grew intense. Mrs. Bennett's back was turned; I picked up a three-cornered piece from the floor, and hid it in my bosom.

"In two or three minutes I was on my way to school, every now and then looking at my beautiful print, and thinking how cleverly I had managed to get it; but all at once it struck me I had stolen it, and I began to feel very unhappy. At school I could not attend to my lessons. There seemed to be great lumps in my throat, and the tri-cornered piece of print in my bosom felt as if it were piercing me with every point. My teacher asked me if I felt sick. I was going to reply 'Yes,' but fortunately I thought in time. No, I will not tell a lie besides stealing;' so I answered I felt very unwell. She very kindly told me to go out into the playground. Oh, how I wished she had not been so kind. I said to myself, if she only knew what a wicked girl I am, would she speak to me? Again I went out and determined to get rid of the print. Where was I to put it? Everybody would be sure to see it, and know I stole it. I spied a hole in a post, and thought that that would do for a hiding-place. I squeezed it in, and fancied that I felt happier; but the bright and beautiful colours haunted me yet; the children would see it; I must find some more secure place.

I got it again, and tried to chew and swallow it; but it would not do. Oh, how wretched I was beginning to feel! On my way from school I had to cross a running stream of water, and there I thought I could get rid of it.

I threw it over and watched it slowly floating along, now it whirled in a little eddy, and now came swimming back again; would it never float out of sight, and if it did, where would it go? would it not be sure to float right in front of some one who would know that it was Mrs. Bennett's print, and that I had stolen it? While I leaned over the bridge and watched it with all the agony of childish remorse, it caught against the root of a bush which grew upon the bank; yes, there it stuck, where every one would see it. I was sure they could not and would not see anything else. I heard waggon wheels coming towards the bridge. I felt certain that Mrs. Bennett was in that waggon, and all my uncles, and aunts, and playmates, and every one that knew me; they would all see the calico and know I had been stealing. I climbed over the bridge at the risk of breaking my neck, crept down the bank and hid until the waggon had passed. When all was quiet I came out of my hiding-place and tried to reach the print, but my arm was too short. I took off my shoes and stockings. Oh, if any one should see me With a desperate effort I reached the piece; but what should I do with it, now I had got it? While putting on my shoes and stockings I determined what to do. I ran along towards home; I reached Mrs. Bennett's; she was sitting near the open window; I opened the gate, went up to the window, threw in the piece of print, and was running away, when she called after me,

now.

66

Sarah, my dear child, what ails you ?"