THE THUNDER SHOWER; OR WHAT MY OLD MINISTER SAID. NE summer, when I was a boy, there was a great drougth. There had been no rain for a long time. The pastures were naked and scorched; the corn rolled up its leaves as if it could not endure the touch of the sun; the wheat, nodding lazily over the hardened soil, promised no reward to the labourer. Only where there were cool shadows, or kind hands to nourish, did the flowers look bright and glad. Many a stream had left its pebbles dry, and many a fountain had ceased to offer supplies. The beasts were in trouble. Disappointed at their usual watering-places, they eagerly followed the course of the vanished brooks, or bellowed about the fields, or sought relief beneath the densest shadows of the marshes. Men were in trouble, too. Water for their necessities was obtained with much inconvenience; and they began to fear that they had toiled in vain. They watched every rising cloud with an anxious eye, and when it had passed over without dropping a blessing, they turned away with a sigh, and cast around a look of doubt and perplexity. The family of Squire Boorman were less straitened than their neighbours. The well at the kitchen door, and the brook near the house, had failed, and they were obliged to go a considerable distance for their daily supply of water. On the farther side of the broad field beyond the road, at the base of a wood-covered knoll, a stream gushed out, large enough, in or dinary times, to drive a mill. It was now less than half its usual size; yet there was an abundance for the family of its owner, and some to spare for others. To that valuable fountain, while the dry weather continued, Squire Boorman's daughter Mary often went, with a pitcher or a light pail. As she was one day crossing the road on such an errand, Dominie Rider drew near. Well, my child," said he, "where are you going to fill your pitcher ?" 'Away to that grove on the other side of the pasture," replied Mary. "I go there every day, to bring some cool water for my father, when he comes in from work. Perhaps, Dominie, you would accept a drink? "Thank you, dear; my walk has made me quite thirsty. I will rest till your return, in the shade of this tree." Mary soon placed the full pitcher in the hands of Mr. Rider. As he returned it, with his eyes directed upward, he devoutly exclaimed, "This, O Father, comes forth from the fountain of thy goodness. Do you think," Mary, he then inquired, "when you fill your pitcher with water, whose gift it is, and how much we owe Him for it ?" "Not always," said Mary. If she had answered, "Not one time in ten," I dare affirm she would have come nearer the truth; for the great God, the giver of every blessing, was not more in her thoughts, than in the thoughts of children in general. Ah, how wretched would be our lot," replied the minister, "if our heavenly Father did not always think of us! Could He leave the world out of view a single moment, every stream would cease to flow, every plant would wither, every life have a sudden end. Yet how often we forget our dependence on Him. How often we overlook His agency in the world around us. We expect the seasons will continue to produce their fruits, as they have done in years past. Where a stream flows to-day, we expect it will flow to-morrow, of course, without considering what His providence has to do in the matter. We fill our vessels with water, we take the food which our wants require, with scarcely more thoughtfulness than a horse when he goes to his usual wateringplace, or to the manger where he is accustomed to receive his fodder." At this moment they were startled by a loud thunder-clap in the west. A dark cloud, edged with silver, was rolling upward, and the minister, after carefully surveying it, concluded to walk up to the house with Mary. "I am glad," said Mrs. Boorman, we are to have rain once more. time we have had." "that What a sad "Not half so sad as we might have had," said Mr. Rider. "Israel, in the days of Elijah, had no rain for three years and six months. Poor travellers have sometimes found themselves in the midst of burning deserts, without a drop to relieve the torments of thirst. We have been quite comfortable in comparison." " said Mrs. Boorman, "Why, to be sure,' we have no reason to complain.” "We have great reason to be thankful," replied the minister, warmly. "In how many If ways a little water promotes our comfort. we want clean hands, clean clothes, clean dishes, We cannot clean rooms, we make use of water. prepare our food without water. If all other blessings were bestowed, without this, our very life would be a torment." Meanwhile, the thunders were rolling, loud, solemn, awful. The dark clouds advanced on the wings of the wind. Some scattered drops first hurried down, as heralds, and soon followed the full force of the shower, In a few minutes Mr. Boorman and his two house, out of breath, and The heavens warned them sake of doing a little sons burst into the more work, they had remained in the field till the shower was close upon them. Otherwise, people have exposed their health in a similar manner. "What a mighty rain!" exclaimed the Squire. "I never saw water come down faster." "Yet," said the minister, "it is not dashed down by the pailful, nor does it fall in large unbroken streams. There is goodness in the very manner in which rain is sent. As it usually falls gently, and in drops, even the tenderest plants are not injured." "The water, too, has time to soak away, and it moistens the earth equally," added Mr. Boorman. "I presume, Squire, you never knew your land to be watered in spots or stripes. You never knew every second farm along this road, to be rained upon, and the rest to be left dry. God moves the clouds about by His will, so as to distribute their treasures to every place. He sends rain on the hills and the vales, on the fields and on the woods, on the just and the unjust." When, at length, the shower had passed, all nature seemed refreshed and glad. The sun shone out again, and painted on the opposite cloud a splendid rainbow. The water-drops glittered on every blade and leaf, as if heaven had shaken to the earth a shower of its gems. Mr. Rider, on looking out, exclaimed, "How |