us on the morrow. "But you ought to have thought of that," perhaps some sharp little reader will say. Just so, my young friend. Did we but always think when and as we ought, what a different colouring we should give to our lives. Let us try to do so. The Rydal higher fall was so accessible that a cripple, 27 years of age, had climbed up with his crutches. When speaking to him of his lameness, he told me it was the result of an injury to his spine when twelve years old, while playing at "leap-frog." Though lame, he cheerful and blithe pursued his way. His dear mother was with him, a goodly help in case of need.

Amid the din of the splashing waters and spreading spray, I saw the sun gracing the broad face of the rock with the brilliant colours of the rainbow. Oh, that glorious

sun is a most skilful and generous artist; he is ever spreading his pictures of exquisite taste before the eyes of men, women, and children. Let us praise God for such a great and true friend. Both the falls had lofty and vigorous trees, full of rich foliage, growing in abundance on either side. From one of them I saw a dead branch some feet long stretched across the flowing stream, on the upper surface of which were growing moss and lovely young ferns; thus it was useful after its death. So good works may grow on, and out of, the lives of departed men. May such service and honour be ours, dear children.

Returning from the falls we met with an object of much interest. Beneath the branches of a fine old tree had been placed as a seat a large stone brought from the lower fall. Its shape caused me to think of the head of a great hammer, having a large hole in the centre for the handle; this hole in the stone had been worn by the constant friction of the falling water. By constantly doing your work like this falling water, you, my dear young friends, will get honourably through your hardest life task.

While young, step into the ranks of those who are "Active doers, noble, strong to labour, sure to conquer."

The power to walk easily and quickly is a very great blessing. The tree, not having this ability, abides where planted. Not so with us. We can go in search of truth, knowledge, and enjoyment to the sea beach, the grassy meadow, the spacious park, or the village lane. We can gaze upon the stately mansion with admiration, think over the known character and history of its occupants; or we can observe with pleasure the lowly cot, made beautiful by trees, choice creepers, and flowers of sweetness, that its owner cultivates with such laudable diligence and good taste.

In the Lake District are many mountains; looking up to the top of them is easy, getting up is difficult. However, the tug of climbing is considerably relieved by means of winding paths; some smooth to the feet and agreeable to the eye, being overhung with the laurel, the holly, and the ivy.

Climbing mountains gives strength to the muscle and nerve, to the digestive and thinking powers of the climber; the summit reached, enlarged views of surrounding and low-lying objects are obtained, fresh lessons of wisdom, love, and power, Divine and human, open before him, and he descends a stronger and happier man.

Windermere and its neighbourhood have had Mrs. Hemans and some of the most illustrious of our literary men for residents. Here Wordsworth, Southey, H. Coleridge, Professor Wilson, Thomas De Quincey, produced some of their choicest writings— writings that now instruct, delight, and bless men in this and other lands. This fact lends enchantment to the scenes, for these mighty spirits hover around and penetrate your own thoughtful soul. your own thoughtful soul. So we felt as we walked in the paths of their feet, viewed the houses in which they had lived, and stood by the graves where some of their

bodies now peacefully rest, and shall rest until He who is the "Resurrection and the Life" shall call them forth to an everlasting life with Himself.

Should your medical man ever give you

"orders to leave" home in search of health, as ours did my dear wife, may you, like her, return with a glad heart and health fully restored. JOSEPH GARSIDE,

Myrtle House, Louth.

MY WILLIAMS was the eldest of three

:

children she had a little sister and brother, May and Harold. Amy lived in a beautiful house, for her father was a rich gentleman. Her mother was a delicate lady, seldom able to leave her bedroom, so she did not see much of her children; Amy had nearly all her own way, and became a proud girl, taking little notice of her sister and brother, although she was years older than they.

"Papa! dear papa!" said little May, as she ran into the breakfast-room one morning. "It is Amy's birthday to-morrow, what shall we give her?"

"Oh, you and Harold can give her anything you like, and I will see about my present to-day," said her papa.

Just then Amy came into the room, so they could not talk any more about it.

66

Papa, can I have a party to-morrow, as it is my birthday, and I shall be ten years old ?" said Amy.

66

'Well, I do not know; you must ask your mamma if she can bear with the noise," said her papa.

Her mamma never came down to breakfast, and Amy used to pour out the coffee, so she very proudly took her place at the head of the table. After breakfast was over, she went upstairs to ask her mamma.

"Oh, mamma!" she cried, as she burst into the room, never thinking that noise made her mother worse; 66 can I have a party to-morrow? Papa said I was to ask you; do say yes."

'Yes, my dear, I think you can, as you have not had one yet." Mrs. Williams spoiled her eldest child, and gave her every thing she asked for, so though she knew this party would make her worse, she said "yes" to please her.

Amy ran downstairs full of joy, settling in her mind whom she would have at her party. Soon after dinner of the same day she went out to invite her little friends to the party. She would say to some of them: "It is my own party, May and Harold have nothing to do with it."

Amy's birthday came. It was a beautiful morning when she woke up, the ground was covered with snow, and all looked lovely. When she came down to breakfast, she found her mamma in the room; she said she had tried to come this morning, as it was her birthday. Amy kissed her mamma for her kindness, and went to her place to receive her presents. May gave her a workbox, Harold a writing-desk, and her mamma a beautiful Bible, with her name printed in gold inside. Amy looked at her papa, wondering why he had not given her something.

"Well, Amy, I suppose you want to know where my present is," said her papa smiling. "It is too big to bring into this room; if you want to see it now, come with me to the front door."

Amy went to see what it was, and what should she see but a beautiful white pony, already saddled. She threw her arms around her papa's neck, and thanked him for such a beautiful present.

At six o'clock the party began. Amy wanted to be first in everything. She would not let May play with her; and if her little sister came near her, she would push her away, and tell her she ought to be in bed. They had all agreed upon playing one game, except Amy, and she said she would not play that game,

"Oh, do play, it is so nice," said little May.

"Hold your tongue, you have nothing to

do with it," said Amy; and she pushed her away. Poor May slipped her foot, and fell into the fire; she was taken out in a minute, but still she was badly burned, and as she was a delicate child, this made her very ill for months.

Whenever Amy looked at little May's pale face, it reminded her of her rash act. She never forgot her tenth birthday, or her unkindness to her little sister, as long as she lived. THOMASINA WITHINGTON.

FRIEND of ours, whom we will call Mr.

Burton, who has been taken to the Saints' Rest, wrote the following letter to his daughter. Mr. Burton was in perfect health at the time, and the letter was expected to be read by no one but the young lady to whom it was sent. But the picture which it presents of domestic blessedness is so beautiful, and is, as we believe, so descriptive of many thousands of English homes, that we print it in full with the conviction that it will afford our readers, young and old, very great pleasure. We alter nothing but the name. January 21st, 1877. "MY DEAR ANNIE,-I feel so sure you will be glad to have a line from me in the morning, that I am going to write, though this is your first whole day at school. We have thought of you a great many times-I can't tell you how many-and wondered what you were doing, and whether you felt at all reconciled to your new circumstances.

I could have almost envied you the pleasure of hearing Mr. Dale this morning, though we were all pleased to hear the voice of Mr. Bagain. You will, I hope, occupy your mind fully with your work at school, and with making the acquaintance of some of the young ladies. I should have been disappointed if you had left home

without feeling it painful, for I should then have thought that the home had not been what it has been our constant endeavour to make it.

"But now you have gone, and are in the first great trial of a young girl's life, it will be good for you to keep your mind from dwelling too much on the past, and to think more of the present and the future. Try and begin at once to take an interest in your work and your companions. Let these occupy you, and you will soon feel a relief from the regrets which have burdened you so much during the last few days. Remember what is the one great object of it all-viz., to make you a wise and good woman. It is not mere cleverness, though that is useful, but wisdom and goodness that you must attain to.

"You will of course copy our Saviour Jesus, who is the great example for us all; but next to that, dear Annie, what I should most like to see in you is that you should strive to be like your mother. Some people are never valued as they should be until after they die, but this will not be the case with her. Her gentleness, patience, selfdenial, and tenderness are so patent that everybody sees them; and for me, she is quite the greatest blessing and comfort of my life; and if you grow to be like her, how

IVE for some purpose in the world. Always act your part well. Fill up the measure of duty to others. Conduct yourselves so that you will be missed with sorrow when you are gone. Multitudes of our species are living in such a selfish manner that they are not likely to be remembered after their disappearance. They leave behind them scarcely any traces of their existence, and are forgotten almost as though they had never been; they are, while they live, like some pebble lying unobserved among a million on the shore; and when they die they are like that pebble thrown into the sea, which just ruffles the surface, sinks, and is forgotten, without

being missed from the beach. They are neither regretted by the rich, wanted by the poor, nor celebrated by the learned. Who has been the better for their life? Who has been the worse for their death? Whose tears have they dried up? Whose wants supplied? Whose misery have they healed? Who would unbar the gate of life to re-admit them to existence ? or what face would greet them back again to our world with a smile? Wretched, unproductive mode of existence ! Selfishness is its own curse; it is a starving vice. The man who does no good gets none. He is like the heath in the desert, neither yielding fruit nor seeing when good cometh-a stunted, miserable shrub.

HE answers to the puzzles for May are -4 d. per lb., and Darlington. The following are the names of those who have answered both correctly:-R. Bateman, M. C. Brooks, J. Butterworth, C. S. Butterworth, W. Briggs, D. G. Chilton, W. H. Cockayne, E. Castle, J. W. Howarth, A. J. Haynes, W. H. Holden, C. W. Heywood, B. Illingworth, W. E. Menhinnick, E. Meadowcroft, L. Meadowcroft, A. M. Olds, T. Raymont, J. Selby, T. H. Tom, T. Trafford, T. E. Wakefield, W. H. Whitworth, M. Wilson, A. E. Cope, and J. Watkinson.

Those who have answered one correctly are-L. J. Bates, A. Brierley, M. E. Clegg, T. Dale, J. Greenwood, R. B. King, J. W. Lister, T. Mackey, A. Pickles, J. Smedley, T. E. Scott, W. O. Westall.

The puzzles for the present month are:-
I.-ARITHMETIC.

Divide 120 into two parts so that one is of the other.

II. CHARADE.

My first, to meet the youth's good sight,
Affords a modern form of light;
The next, for pain or for vexation
Will give the usual exclamation;
Thirdly, for verses as is meet,
We find the measurement in feet;
The whole, whose syllables are four,
A strong and useful place of store.

Letters for the Editor to be addressed-
Rev. R. GRAY,
Heywood,

Lancashire.

London: T. NEWTON, Methodist Free Church Book-room, 119, Salisbury-square, Fleetstreet, E.C.