How doth the rose draw its crimson from the dark brown earth, or the lily its shining white? How can a small seed contain a plant? How doth every plant know its season to put forth? They are marshalled in order: each one knoweth his place, and standeth up in his own rank.

The snow-drop and the primrose make haste to lift their heads above the ground. When the spring cometh, they say, 'Here we are.' The carnation waiteth for the full strength of the year; and the hardy laurustinus cheereth the winter months.

Who preserveth them alive through the cold of winter, when the snow is on the ground: and the sharp frost bites on the plain? Who soweth a small seed, and a little warmth in the bosom of the earth, and causeth them to spring up afresh, and sap to rise through the hard fibres ?

The trees are withered, naked, and bare: they are like dry bones. Who breatheth on them with the breath of spring, and they are covered with verdure, and green leaves sprout from the dead wood?

Lo, these are a part of His works; and a little portion of His wonders.

There is little need that I should tell God, for everything speaks of Him.

you of

Every field is like an open book; every painted flower hath a lesson written on its leaves.

Every murmuring brook hath a tongue; a voice is in every whispering wind.

They all speak of Him who made them; they all tell us, He is very good.

We cannot see God, for He is invisible; but we can see His works, and worship His footsteps in the green sod.

They that know the most will praise God the best; but which of us can number half His works?

LESSON VII.

LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED.

"The Old Man's Home," by Rev. W. Adams (Rivington). "Channing's Discourse on the Future Life," vol. iv., p. 217.

Walter."I have been thinking, mother, about that little boy who was killed-I wish you would tell me something more about him and his little sister Susan-and his mother.Where is his mother now?"

Mother. My boy, I have been intending to tell you about her. I often went with my mother to see her after she lost her dear boy-I used to like to listen, when she was talking with my mother. I remember one evening particularly; she and her little girl were at our house-it was after tea, and little Sue had fallen asleep. I was sitting close by the window getting my lesson ready for school next day. I don't think they remembered that I was there, as I sat with my book on my knee. But I was listening to all

they said, and I have never forgotten it. The same thoughts that brought comfort to that sorrowing mother then, have many a time since brought comfort to me too.

"She was telling my mother, I remember, about one of her neighbours—an old man—who had been thrown out of a cart after he had been drinking in a public-house, and so injured that he died the next day: and I remember her saying, with tears in her eyes, 'Oh! if my boy had staid with me, he might have been tempted into dangerous places-he might have chosen the wrong path, and been led away into sin! for he was not strong, and I could not always have kept him away from temptation. He might have gone lower and lower-further and further from God-and have died at last all unfit and afraid to appear before Him! So I thank God for taking him where he will be safe-where sin cannot tempt him any more-where his soul can grow unhindered. He always used to say he hoped God would let him go home to Him before he grew to be a man ;-for he felt so fearful lest he should not be strong enough to obey always the feelings that he knew to be best-he felt so afraid of getting by degrees to love low and selfish pleasures, and so being unable to rejoice in

seeing God hereafter — unable to serve Him. Oh, I do thank God,' she said, 'for taking him to Himself, while he was still longing to go-and fit to go! and I believe,' she added, after a minute's silence,' I do believe He will not keep me long away from him. While he was with

:

me, and I could see his face, he helped me to love goodness more and more continually his soul led on my soul towards God-and I do believe God will forgive my shortcomings and my past sins, and let me soon see my child again;' —and much more she said about seeing a Saviour whom she gratefully loved; and then, I remember, they talked about where the heaven was to which she felt her boy was gone. 'I used to think it was up in the sky,' she said; 'it may be up in the sky-God has not told us-but I think the spirit of my loving child is still near to those he loved best on earth: I cannot fancy that any happiness can be so great to him as to be allowed to watch his mother and his sister, and to see the thought of himself leading them on and on, and helping them to get ready to join him in his glory, and therefore I feel as if his spirit were with me wherever I go-and that, by and bye, when God loosens my spirit, and severs it from this body, then I shall know and see that I am with my child again.'