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Self-communings

165 Through Fire and through

Shall I be one of them ? 97

Water”

225

“Shall I Wear a Cross?". 333 True Comfort

284
Spent Years .

325
True Faith

13
Stingless Death, The
329 Twirlblast, The .

305
Sunday among the Hop- Two Doctors

54
Pickers .
197 Two Wishes, The

66

Sussex Martyrs

156, 178

What am I doing for my

Soul ?

Talk with Myself about My- What Thomas Crane did with

self, A.

72 his Politics on New Year's

That Ugly Box!

230 Day.

19

That Vineyard

243 Where is the Difference? 116

“ Their Eyes were holden” 162 Winter Pleasures

309
“ Thou art the Man

44 Words, and What came of

Tom Hanson's Drink Bill.

90 them 50, 79, 104, 215, 304

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Blood of Sprinkling, The . 25 Only Believe”

Christmas Message, A. 322 Passing under the Rod

Come, come, come . 238 | Perseverance .

Come unto Me"

Prisoner of Hope, The

Expectation

266 “Shadow of a Great Rock in

“Go, Work to-day in My

a Weary Land, The”.

Vineyard”.

140 Sinner's Prayer, The

Guide of iny Youth, The . 238

" Then shall I be satisfied”
Heaven is Far and Earth is

They feared as they entered

Near

II2 into the Cloud”

“He shall save His People “Thy Workmanshi: ”
from their Sins”

291

To-morrow
Hymns to Jesus .

42

Valiant for the Truth
Looking to Jesus

127

“We shall see Him as He is"

“My Cup runneth over" . 154

“ What I do thou knowest

Omnibus Driver's Saturday

not now; but thou halt

Night, The

230 know hereafter”

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The Little Seegoodinall.
WAS sitting in my arm-chair, by the win-
dow, one cold winter morning. I sat
there as

a naughty child stands in a corner, not exactly with the tip of my forefinger in my mouth, but with the whole five

fingers resting on my head, or, rather, my head resting upon them. I was in a naughty mood-feeling wilful, thinking there was not much good in anything, and especially with anything with which I had to do, or that had to do with me. The truth was, I was

idle, had been up late; and all who desire to do well and serve God know what a sad, listless feeling this lateness brings on —

what a

naughty child” feeling — what a dissatisfied feeling — what an almost angry feeling with every one but the right person oneself! As I sat thus, a slight tap at the glass, as though a leaf had been blown against it, caused me to move two fingers,

as to get a clear look out. The tap was from the beak of a small brownish-grey bird, which had been evidently blown against the window by the high wind

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then raging. I guessed this by the extended wings and fluttering motion of the poor creature; but it righted itself in a moment, shook its wings, and flew to a branch exactly opposite. I watched it, and it seemed to understand that I did so; for it put its head to one side, then to another; then preened its moist feathers; then ruffled its throat; then uttered two prolonged tweets,” that reminded me of the preparatory flourish of the bow on the violin; then, with a side-glance at me, it opened its beak and poured forth a song, which seemed to reach my ear in the following words. Ere giving them, however, it is due to the little bird to say something about its small self.

THE SEEGOODINALL is a diminutive bird inhabiting the somewhat thinly-populated regions of Godly Contentment. Its plumage is unprepossessing, being of a dusky hue; it is, nevertheless, a general favourite, for its melodious note is chiefly heard in winter, or when storms are at their height. In the latter case, it may be heard trying to outswell the winds in a manner that would surprise any listener unaccustomed to the peculiar habits of this song-loving bird. Although it rejoices in sunshine when placed there, it does not seek it; and yet it is remarkable that even its plumage, dusky as it is, has beneath the pinion a few tints that seem to absorb a bright colouring when a sunbeam shines across the bird in its flight: this colour is watched for with delight by those who prize the modest creature for its humble work and unobtrusive life.

THE SONG OF THE SEEGOODINALL.
The stormy wind is blowing,

Oh, blowing loud and bleak;
Thank God that I have feathers,

And can hide my little beak.
Deep in the cosy warmth within,

As soft as a bed of down,
Thank God that I have feathers,

Although they're plain and brown.

1

Thank God that rest is found for me

When wearied I would rest;
It is a mercy ill deserved

Oh, surely I am blest!

Ah, ill deserved ! should birdie wait

Till aught was its by right,
'Twould wait in vain-the day would close,

And giftless come the night!

Here the seegoodinall stops, preens its wings, and then goes on :

I rock upon my leafless bough,

And upward lift mine eye ;
I know that God is in the storm,

It sweeps so grandly by.

The wind is loud and boisterous

His voice is calm and clear;
Be still—thou art My little one,

And nothing hast to fear.'
They say that we shall all be starved,

This winter we must die,
The food is all so scant and scarce,

The snow so thick doth lie.

But I have found two crumbs to-day,

And one berry on this tree;
Oh, if to-morrow comes at all

'Twill bring its crumb for me !?

Or, if we are not starved, they say

We all must die of cold ;
What strength is there in our small frame

This biting frost to hold ?

I'll not believe a word of that !

Or, if I die to-night,
I'll fall as God's own sparrow,

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Beneath His watchful sight.

1“Fear not, for I have redeemed thee.Isa. xliii. 1.
? “Godliness with contentment is great gain.”- T'im, vi. 6.

3 "Are not two sparrows sold for one farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.”—Matt. x. 29.

1

'Tis true, the winter has been long,

Its hours are dark and drear ;
But what a pleasant summer time

And spring we had last year !
What merry sunshine, fruit and flowers,

Oh, God is very good!
It ill becomes a little bird

On wintry griefs to brood.
I only back need cast my sight

To trace the golden lines
Of mercy, that have followed me?

Whence mercy ever shines.
And forward ? Ah, the lines are broad,

And brighten as they grow,
For the stamp of love is on them all-

Of love too deep to know.
And now to other climes I fly

To sing my daily song ;
Not of cold and cheerless winter,

And the blast so fierce and strong ;
But of never-failing kindness,

And love that never spent,
But drew closer, closer round me,

As earthly comforts went.
God loves to hear His creatures pray,

But better still to praise, 3
And proclaim His lasting goodness

In all His works and ways.
Thank God I have a song to sing

When summer's sun shines bright;
But thank Him more that I can sing

In the dark and wintry night. The song ceased; the little seegoodinall shook the snow from its wings, then with a farewell “tweet” it spread them for flight, and was soon beyond my view; doubtless gone

1 “Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life.”— Psa. xxiii. 6.

2 " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."--Heb. xiii. 5. “I have loved thee with an everlasting love."-Jer. xxxi. 3.

3 “ It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto Thy name, O Most High.”—Psa. xcii. 1.

3

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