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When Aunt Lily bent over her for a good-night kiss, she said:

Games were proposed, and the her toys and dolls, but stopped, to afternoon passed away quickly. give up pleasantly, after a moment's Then the tea-bell summoned them struggle. all to a collection of nice things, such as mammas and aunts prepare for little folks-cakes, preserves, plump oysters, and other dainties. Singing and games in the parlour followed, till it was time to break up with merry good-nights and wishes for "Happy New Years."

But among Jessie's little friends, more than one wondered at the gentleness of the little girl, and her willingness to give up her own will to that of the others. Many times she had been about to lift her voice in anger, or her hand to push away

"I see, Jessie, that the good resolutions are in a fair way of prospering now. Whenever they waver, darling, ask Jesus to help you, and you will find the hardest struggles become easier. Is it not so ?"

"Indeed it is, Aunt Lily. Every time I wanted to get angry I whis pered in my heart a little prayer, and the bad feeling went away. I will not forget my prayers another morning."

"WE SPEND OUR YEARS AS A TALE!”

ANOTHER chapter of that tale is told. To us a new chapter has opened, the events and issues of which we cannot foresee; yet the interest and instruction it may afford may depend largely on ourselves. Our days glide silently and rapidly away, and it is well at certain recurring periods and seasons to mark their passage. The commencement of a new year, when kind hearts on all sides greet us with good wishes for many happy returns of the season, furnishes a very appropriate occasion for a few reflections on the brevity and unsatisfactoriness of the present life, considered in itself. The subject is so trite, that whatever may be said on it is apt to be regarded as a kind of see-saw morality or pulpit thrumming; yet to each successive generation, and to each individual, it comes in tones as fresh in their melancholy pathos as fell from the lips of the venerable, heroic leader of Israel when he first uttered the words at the head of this article; and there are times and modes of mind in the experience of us all when such thoughts naturally press themselves on our attention. Nor are such times always the saddest. Oft in the midst of our happiest hours a feeling of their transiency comes over us, as if all were shadowy and unreal. Moralists in every age have exhausted every form of expression in depicting human life as illusory and uncertain. The sacred writers employ a great variety of metaphor when speaking of the subject. The writer of the Book of Job compares our days on earth to a swift past, a fleet ship, a flying shuttle, and an eagle darting on its prey. The Psalmist characterises life as a handbreadth, a dream, and a sleep. The prophet Isaiah fitly represents our frailty by the wilting grass and the withering flower. One royal monarch portrays life as a shepherd's tent; another calls it a shadow. The woman of Tekoah says it is like spilt water; an

apostle styles it a vapour; Moses, the man of God, terms it a tale. The metaphor is simple and easily understood. Story-telling has ever been a common and interesting amusement, specially in the earlier periods in the history of a people. Long before the power of the press was known, the oral poet, singing bard, or wandering minstrel, swayed a magic sceptre over the minds of men. Among the Jews ancient traditions were thus handed down from sire to son, and nothing is more interesting to children at any time than a well-told story; nor is anything read to-day with more avidity than a wellwritten tale. A tale, however thrilling during the recital, leaves behind it a sense of unreality. Though deeply interesting, it is at best very evanescent. Even when most exciting, it is speedily forgotten; and though occupying both time and attention, is frequently profitless. The analogy is obvious. Our present life is in its nature illusory and unreal; in its duration, brief and evanescent; in its progress, rapid and readily forgotten; and in its results, oft unsatisfactory and profitless. Many a tale is told simply to excite merriment, awaken wonder, or while away time. The incidents, fictitious or exaggerated, pass rapidly across the stage, awaken a momentary interest, please for a little, and are gone. At the end the reader is disposed to say: "Is that all ?" So life to many is but a kind of current story, or a pleasing song, during which they seek excitement and amusemert, spend their time, but do not redeem it. Animated by no noble purpose, actuated by no lofty aims, engaged in no genuine work, they are mere figures at a masquerade, not living actors in the realities of life. With them there is no earnest running, no brave fighting, no heroic achieving, no patient enduring, hence, no real progress; only a weary repetition of the fruitless past. Neither admonished by reproof nor aroused by judgment; not solemnised by affliction nor softened by mercies; not aroused to energy by the wants and woes of others, nor melted to repentance and gratitude by the blessings and bounties of their own lots; their lives pass away as an idle tale.

Sometimes a wisely constructed tale, well told, will thrill and agitate, melt and move the mind of the hearer, or stir the spirit, quicken the pulse, and touch the heart of the reader, so as to induce him to steal hours from the night and for a time forget all other things. But when it is finished a feeling of wonder, if not of shame, at his emotion, fills his mind. So in life events transpire which excite or depress, uplift or overwhelm the mind. Hope or fear, rejoicing or regret, prevails as we attain our desires or fail in our schemes. When the objects of our love, ambition, or pride are secured, what irrepressible joy; but when they are removed or lost, what deep distress. But all joys are fleeting. Riches oft take to themselves wings; the future, so attractive and refreshing to the eye of eager expectation, proves a deceptive mirage. Life is a tale, with some pleasing episode and touching incidents; but it is quickly told.

Many a pleasing tale is listened to with delight; but it leaves no deep or lasting impression, and it is no sooner ended than another is desired. One novel after another is read; but these satisfy not, and the readers, like children in the nursery, beg hard for one story more. So is life to those who live merely for pleasure or personal enjoyment. They still pursue that which, like a thrice-told tale, has lost its power to satisfy. They pass through life as through the incidents of a narrative-forgetting the past, inattentive to the present, ever expecting something to occur, trusting to the chapter of accidents which has been tersely termed the Bible of fools, and when their days are ended, nothing real has been achieved.

Some tales are told merely to kill time. They excite but little interest, and impart no instruction. They present false views of life, and awaken ideas and desires which never can be realised. The effect of them is simply to enervate the mind, enfeeble the will, dissipate the faculty of attention, and demoralise the man.

So of the lives of not a few. It must be said they seem fruitless of any good, either to themselves or others. They gather in no harvests of intellectual culture, moral worth, or spiritual power to enrich their own souls; and they scatter around them no seeds of truth, or purity, or goodness which might aid or encourage, heal or help, the lives of others. Their presence gives no inspiration, their conversation affords no light, their sympathy brings no cheer, and their co-operation lends but little help. They seem ill-fitted for any real work or serious employment, and they are constrained to resort to various devices to pass away their allotted days.

DOOR-STONE CHATS.

66 WHAT WILL MRS. GRUNDY SAY?"

ALLOW me to introduce the dramatis persona.

Leonard Morgan, an industrious, intelligent, God-fearing man, is master here. Richly gifted with a certain valuable property called common sense, there is scarcely any position of trust or honour that he could not have creditably filled had circumstances called him to it. The ancestral homestead with its broad acres coming into his possession, however, he has done what his hand found to do with all his might, recognising in what with some would be counted mere drudgery, that true dignity of labour which genuine manhood never scorns. Good Mistress Mor

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with the strength of mature woman- | say? is a question we must all conhood-strong, too, with a grander sider more or less. I reckon no

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strength, born of growing in grace body can afford to do without the and knowledge of the truth as it is good opinion of their fellow-creain Christ Jesus, is a treasure in the tures. It ain't worth much, mayhousehold, esteemed for her sage be, put alongside of the Lord's counsel as well as the work of her estimate, but then it's something; willing hands. "Uncle Jasper' ain't it, Rebecca ? Uncle Jasper whose cognomen seems to have has a way of strengthening his been lost in the mists of antiquity remarks by appeal. -a far-away cousin of the Morgans, has found food and shelter answered Rebecca. with them for a long time, making himself useful about the farm. Uncle Jasper has looked at the world through his own spectacles for sixty odd years, discovering some things that those who look through borrowed ones miss.

They have a way here at Hillside Farm, of getting the day's work, and those few duties that usually precede supper, over at an early hour, for Uncle Jasper says, ""Tain't the Lord's will for anybody to go blunderin' round in the night, when He's given 'em so many hours betwixt sunrise and sunset to labour in."

They have a way, too, of gathering about the open door in the twilight of these summer evenings, and with only such light work as may be accomplished amidst the growing shadows, give themselves up to a rambling chit-chat.

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Yes, that is just your way, Winnie; always wondering what people will think of your performFor my part, I don't care. What is the sense of calling this a free country, if a fellow must be accountable to his neighbour for every step he takes? What? I ask, O ye that hear me!" Victor exclaimed, in thunder tones, striking a theatrical attitude.

"It is much, but not the most," "To do right

and win the Master's approval ought to be the first consideration: to please our friends the second."

But we wish them to approve our conduct and speak well of us," said Winny: "and how shall they do so unless we pay some regard to their views? Trying to do right after a certain manner may bring upon one a charge of actual sin."

"Before a human tribunal, my daughter," her father replied; "but Mrs. Grundy is not infallible."

"Then the query naturally arises, To how great an extent shall we yield to her judgment? or, in other words, how far is it proper to be influenced by others in any course of action?" said Mrs. Morgan.

"Ah, you have spoken at last, little mother!" came from Victor. "I declare I'm worn out with this everlasting anxiety and worry about, What will they say? and, Is it right? Give me freedom!"

"The truth shall make you free," murmured mother, partly to herself; then continued, as if reasoning it out for the first time, "for truth is right, and right is truth, and receiving the truth in its fulness we come into complete liberty, where our own will may be a law, because then we have no will but the will of God. When we can honestly No one seemed to deem it neces- say, 'I live, yet not I, but Christ sary to reply to this burst of elo-liveth in me,' then, and only then, quence, and the discussion which are we really free."

follows would probably never have "That answers Victor's demand taken place, had not Uncle Jasper, for freedom," Winny said; "but after brief meditation, began with, that other vexing question is un"Well, but, What will Mrs. Grundy settled still. Suppose, for instance,

66

Getting warmed up with your subject, aren't you, sis?" interposed Victor, in the coolest manner imaginable.

a young man living on a salary but him he is a good fellow, sound his just sufficient for the needs of his praises throughout the parish, and family, with a trifle over for charity. make him president of a philanHe is an active member of the thropical association," continued Church, always ready to work in Winny, with flashing eyes and its interests. Christmas comes increasing fervour of speech. round. Somebody is suddenly impressed with the idea that somebody ought to be presented with a token of appreciation for his services, and a paper is started to pro- "Not strange if she is," Mr. cure the wherewithal to purchase Morgan said, "since one must some splendid piece of uselessness. either laugh at the world or scold Our young brother is asked to sub- at it, be above caring for its critiscribe toward the necessary amount. cism or constantly vexed and Perhaps a sovereign is expected worried thereby. But I don't befrom him. True, it isn't a large lieve it pays us to be so engrossed sum, but the times are hard and with mint, anise, and cumin, as to calls for money numerous. There neglect the weightier matters of are the Foreign Missions, the Home the law."

Missions, the Sunday-school, the "It is merely a trifle to which Church, all to be remembered by a I referred, I admit," said Winny, purse not too full at the outset. "but it is one case among many Then there is an old aunt in in- where Dame Grundy fetters us to digent circumstances up in the our infinite discomfort. Dare to country, who cared for him in his snap asunder the slenderest chain boyhood, and taught him to love wherewith we are bound, and she virtue instead of vice; the washer- straightway lifts her voice in such woman's crippled child; the disabled bitter denunciation against us, that hackman in the next street; to we prefer to endure while endureach of whom a trifling expen- ance is endurable."

diture would bring a luxury, besides "It don't seem to be possible to some faint comprehension of the run clear of the old woman neither," peace and good-will with which this put in Uncle Jasper. "If ye buy blessed season should be fraught for lands or build churches, give away every soul. These need what he your last year's coat, or pick yourcan spare. The person whom it is self out a wife, she'll have her say proposed to honour certainly does on the subject; and if ye've ever not. Therefore he declines to con- noticed it, that say'll be pretty apt tribute; and what is the result?" to be on the opposite side of your "He'll just get called small and say." stingy and mean for his pains; and "True, she often misjudges us," let him repeat that sort of thing Mr. Morgan answered. "But even half-a-dozen times, and he's got his if it does hurt us sorely to see our name up for close-fistedness, even heaven-born motives dragged in though really practising a gene- the dust of earth, I think it well to rosity that the angels up in heaven settle back on the principle that it might cheer," Uncle Jasper re- is better to suffer wrong than to do plied. wrong. Whatever is said of us, "And on the other hand, let him though disagreeable and positively put down his money toward the injurious for the time being, can do gift, allowing the destitute ones to us no lasting harm unless it be go empty-handed, and his brethren true. And when I say lasting will po nim on the shoulder, tell harm, I refer to that which con

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