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sha'n't catch me; and I don't think any of the boys will blab. Jack Wright knew of it; but he wouldn't join, for he said his mother calls it stealing!" "Jack is a little prig. Any boy of spirit will rob an orchard; and no great harm either, Tom-so say I."
Poor, misled Tom! if he turns out badly the sin will lie heavy at his aunt's door.
To give but one instance more of Blackall's evil influence.
Patty Green, a pretty young girl, but of too giddy and wilful a disposition, was encouraged by Ann to carry on a courtship against her mother's wish. She allowed Patty and her lover to meet at her cottage; and even offered to go up to London with them, to be secretly married. A pretty scrape she had led the poor girl into for, on getting to London, it was discovered that the good-for-nothing man was already married. Patty was ashamed to return home, to be the laughingstock of the village; and nobody ever knew what became of her. Blackall was more than ever dreaded and disliked by the wise and prudent mothers of our village.
Ah! foolish Patty, why did you not listen to Mrs. Wright, when she bade you distrust a stranger who would court you by stealth, and warned you that no blessing would follow a match made against a mother's wish? But, Patty, you turned a deaf ear, and foolishly thought it was no one's business but your own. You were proud of your smart, good-looking lover; but you forgot the old saying, "that handsome is, that handsome does."
It will be a relief, after these sad details, to turn to the good genius, and view the effect of her advice and example, in provoking others to love and good works.
"Well, Hannah Cook, how is it settled about church? Have you spoken to your husband?" "Yes, Mrs. Wright, I talked to him as you advised; but you may as well talk to a post-when he takes a thing into his head there is no getting it out again. Old Widow Pring was right; she warned me that high-shouldered men were always wilful." "That is like one of her queer sayings; but, Hannah, whether high or low-shouldered, he is your husband, and you must not allow yourself to speak that
or you will teach others to disrespect him. I am sorry he holds so to this hot dinner of a Sunday, as it hinders you from church of a morning; but next Sunday I am to stay at home and look to blind Kate, so if you will come and make your pudding in my kitchen, I'll see to have it boiled, ready for your husband: he sha'n't be put out about his dinner."
"Thank you, Mrs. Wright, that is kind. I will take you at your word, for it is three months since I was at the morning service; and it seems hard, as I used to regularly twice every Sunday before I was married."
"The new rector was telling us in his sermon last Sunday morning to repeat the responses and to join in the singing," observed Susan; "I suppose you always do, Hannah, as you were brought up at the school." "Well, I can't say that I do, Mrs. Wright; I left it off when I left school and went to service, for the footman laughed at me, and called me a charity child, and said I ought still to wear my stuff frock and cottage bonnet, and then I should be quite a pattern to the parish; do you see, I was ashamed, and left it off; but I continued. to sing, and the footman sang with me, for he liked music, and had a good voice of his own." "Oh, Hannah, I wish you had heard all the new rector said! he laid it down so plain, and I hope many will do it now, and that you will return to the good habit and sing, not because you like music or to show off your voice, but to join in each part of the service of God, whether in prayer or in praise, in heart as well as voice." "I certainly will, Mrs. Wright; for I believe, as aunt says, it helps to fix one's thoughts, and to keep one's eyes from wandering about. Aunt says she always likes to get next you, for you are so serious and in earnest over your prayers that it helps her to be "And I am sure, Hannah, I feel the benefit too, and like to walk home with your aunt, for she is ready to talk of the sermon, which but few others are." "No, indeed, Mrs. Wright, you say true; if you listen to folks as they pass you, the girls are talking of their finery or their sweethearts-the women of their children or their neighbours-and the men of their business and their dinners." "It is indeed too often the case, Hannah, and
we have need to pray not only for ourselves but for others; I often think if our Lord came into our churches and dismissed all those who were not heart-worshippers how few might be left; how often I myself might have had to quit the church with shame and sorrow?" "I never thought of such a thing, Mrs. Wright; but it is solemn. I shall think of it often at church; I never talk a bit with you without being the wiser and wishing to be the better. God bless you, neighbour, you are a blessing to the village. I will bring my pudding on Sunday a little after nine." "So do; and do your best to keep your husband in good humour. Let him find that your duty to God makes you more careful in your duty to him." This good counsel was followed up by a few words of inward prayer for a blessing on the young wife. Oh that there were more such good geniuses in every village! Susan Wright's influence was not confined to her grown-up friends and neighbours; the young were her especial care and delight, and often benefited by a word of reproof or admonition kindly spoken by her gentle voice; as you will find by listening to the following
"How is your father to-day?" asked Mrs. Wright of a little girl of ten years old. "Better, he says," replied Lucy; "but so cross," she added: "and he sent me to ask you to make him a cup of sago, please Mrs. Wright. I tried, but he says it is smoky, and he would not try even to eat it. Oh! he is so cross!" Fie, Lucy, to talk so of your poor father; he suffers great pain, and you are sometimes cross without any pain to trouble you; come here and see how I make the sago, that you may know another time. If I were you, I would try to make a good nurse to poor father, and God would bless you; He loves dutiful children, and you should pray to God to make father patient." Lucy felt ashamed; she knew that Mrs. Wright said what was true, but she tried to justify herself, saying:-"It is so hard not to play on the green with the rest of the school-girls this fine afternoon, and to sit all alone when father is asleep and don't want me." "O Lucy! remember how kind father was to you when you fell down the stairs and hurt your leg: how he went
off in the dark and the rain all the way to Newtown to fetch the doctor, and how he carried you up and down night and morning, and when you got better borrowed a donkey for you to ride on to church. Remember this, and you will not think it so hard to be kept from play for a day or two; even if your father does sleep a little you know that if he wakes and wants anything he cannot get out of bed to get it." The tears filled Lucy's eyes; she was thoughtless and fond of play, but she was easily brought to see a fault, and always ready to own herself in the wrong. "Dear Mrs. Wright," she cried, "I am a naughty, ungrateful child; father was kind to me, and I ought to be so to him. I won't call him cross any more, indeed I won't." "There's a dear. Now take him this sago, and tell him I will look up in an hour's time and read a bit to him, it will pass the time away; and then, Lucy, you shall have a game on the green with the rest of the children, only duty must come before pleasure, my little girl; you will remember this another time, won't you?" Yes, Mrs. Wright, I hope so; I like to be scolded by you, for you scold so kindly, though you make me cry; I am sorry, not angry as I am when other people scold me. Why was this? because our good genius reproved in the spirit of love, and taught by example as well as by precept; and let us so provoke others to love and to good works. J. A.
EFFECT OF SNOW.
MR. EDITOR,-I beg to send you an extract which I have cut out of the "Cambridge Chronicle:"—" In 'Chambers' Edinburgh Journal' there is an account by one Jacques Balmot of the effects produced on the eyes by the glare of the snow, when he and Dr. Paccord were ascending Mont Blanc. They had not the green veils on them which are recommended. He states that when he arrived at the grand plateau, he was so dazzled that he was nearly blind, and whichever way he looked he only saw big drops of blood. He sat down and closed his eyes for half an hour, and was then able to go on. They passed the night in the snow. On the following morning Dr. Paccord exclaimed, I hear the birds sing
ing, and it is quite dark;' but his eyes were open, and he was blind for the time, and only recovered after careful management for a considerable period."
When we read such accounts as these of the effect of looking for long together at the bright whiteness of snow, and consider how distressing would be our condition if all were constantly white around us, we have great reason to be thankful that it has pleased God to give us those pleasing varieties of colours with which He has decked his creation. The effect of gazing long at any one colour has a particular effect on the eye, and prevents it for a time from seeing other colours in their true character. We sometimes see a field covered entirely with red flowers, such as poppies, which a slovenly cultivator has allowed to grow in his field. It has a splendid appearance at first, but the eye is soon dazzled and distressed by it. Look at a bed all filled with blue flowers, and the eye after a little time will be wearied by it, and unable to judge well of other colours. A bed all yellow is fatiguing to the eye, and so it is with most of the other colours. It is on green
alone that the eye rests with a pleasurable repose for any length of time; what a blessing then ought we to feel it to be that it has pleased God to make this colour to prevail through all his works, and so to clothe the grass of the field that it may give joy and comfort to his creatures! How beautiful all things look, when, after a long, white winter, the trees all bud forth in their renewed green dress! And what a cheering feeling is raised, even in the minds of those who are little accustomed to think of the great Giver of all our blessings!
It is an ancient meditation, "that God created man to look upwards, to praise and honour his great Maker, and to direct his thoughts upwards; whilst the animals are made to look downwards, having their cares wholly directed to their earthly provision." But God taketh care of the cattle, and his tender mercy is over all his works. Surely the happiness of the lower animals is greatly considered by their great Creator, in being so formed as always to look down on the green grass, so that whilst they are enjoying their food, the eye is not