upon her bosom, thereby making her look fair and beautiful. How liberally has God provided for our every want; and how thankful should we be that He has given us such a lovely world in which to pass our earthly life; that when Adam sinned, He did not blot out of Creation all that was pretty and pleasing to the eye, and leave us only that which was necessary for the sustaining of life. What a wilderness world should we then have had, and how quickly should we have wearied of it! We should have had dark and gloomy forests, desolate moors, and wild prairies, unrelieved by the thousands of flowers of every colour and shade that now meet the traveller's eye. Our country roads would have presented a uniform and unattractive appearance. Our journeys from one place to another would have been extremely tedious, as the scenery through which we should have passed would have presented nothing to awaken our interest or excite our admiration. In our walks, we should have been uncheered by the music of the feathered tribes that now make our woods and lanes vocal with their joyous songs, and our fields and gardens would have been ungraced by the presence of those bright and happy creatures. Nature's silence would have been unbroken, save for the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, the barking of the dogs, or the cry of some wild beast in search of prey. And we ourselves should have been gloomy and dejected. Instead of happy faces and beaming smiles, our countenances would ever have been expressive of sorrow and apprehension. For how could we have been mirthful it surrounded by only that which was uninteresting and tediously monotonous ?

As we turn from the contemplation of this dark picture, let us do so with feelings of deep gratitude to that great and Holy Being who, in His infinite wisdom and goodness, has willed it otherwise; and who, instead of treating us as we deserve, has graciously seen fit to give us this very wonderful and exceedingly lovely world in which to pass

our probationary period, and has surrounded us by objects which, if rightly viewed, will fill us with awe and wonder, displaying as they do His marvellous wisdom and His boundless power. Thus is He seeking to draw us to Himself by displaying His great love for us, rather than by manifesting His wrath and displeasure, and driving us to an acknowledgment of our sins. And when, in addition to all this, we remember that He withheld not His only begotten Son from a life of sorrow and an ignominious death, that we through believing on Him might obtain a title to the unfading glories of Heaven, does He not indeed deserve our heart's best love and our ready, cheerful obedience to the laws which He has given us for the regulation of our lives? Is it any other than right that we should give ourselves to Him in youth, and prove by the devotion of a life-time that we appreciate His love and value His favour?

My friend's snowdrops gave rise to the following thoughts, which I will pen in the hope that they may be the means, in my Saviour's hand, of inducing some dear young readers to give their hearts to God. Once these lovely flowers were buried deep in the ground; above them lay layer upon layer of soil, through which they had to work their way, ere they could display their beauties to the passer-by. Even so the unsaved soul is lying so deeply embedded in iniquity, that God looks in vain for the fair fruits and flowers of a holy life. The heart's soil is so hardened by sin and wickedness, that the little germs of good are all blighted and withered, and only the noxious weeds of Satan's planting will grow. It is sad, very sad,

to think that the soul which God made to adorn His moral world, and afterwards His Heavenly one, should, by yielding to the influence of evil, become a disfigurement to the one, and instead of ever being placed in the other, be cast aside as a worthless thing, into the burning lake. But what a blessing that this need not be our lot. As the tender leaves and shoots of the snowdrops could not force

their way through the frozen ground, before it was softened by the gentle rain, and the mild rays of the sun, so it is necessary for the softening of our hard frozen hearts, and the subduing of our wills, that they should be brought under the influence of the Holy Spirit. Living as we do in an age of gospel priviliges, with the Bible in our hand, listening Sabbath after Sabbath to God's ministers as they explain the way of Salvation, surrounded as we are by evidences of the power of religion to effect a thorough change in the lives of many around us,—some of whom were hated for their wickedness and open rebellion,-what excuse have we for remaining in a state of barrenness and hostility? Yet remembering that it is as impossible for us to effect a change in our hearts, as it is for the flowers ever to reach the earth's surface if unaided by outward influences, let us ask the great husbandman, in whose vineyard we are, to remove the evil that is within us, to cleanse us from all sin, to take the stony out of our hearts, and to give us hearts of flesh, to water us from the river of life, to the winter of the grave. To the Christian there is nothing terrible in the thought of his vacated tenement being laid to rest for a season in the silent tomb, for he knows that that which is sown in corruption shall be raised in incorruption, and what is sown a mortal body shall be raised an immortal. He also knows that when the trump of God shall sound, his glorified spirit will be reunited to his glorified body, together to enjoy the felicity of Heaven. But it is far otherwise with the sinner. He dreads the thought of death. In the swellings of Jordan he knows of no strong arm on which to lean. The grave is unassociated with any cheering thought. For him there is no light beyond. No pleasurable emotions are called forth by the prospect of the reunion that will by-and-bye take place between his spirit and the resurrection body. Full well he knows that when his present state of existence is ended, he and happiness will part company for ever. He dreads the resurrection

morn, knowing that it will add to, instead of decreasing his wretchedness. Glad would he be, if his body could be for ever in the quiet tomb, rather than by being raised up and immortalized become capable of enduring the endless misery of that place where the fire burns but never consumes, and where there is a worm that never dies. Happily neither we nor any who are, or who ever shall be dwellers on this green earth need know by sad experience the fearful condition of the lost. For the Lord is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. I am sure I need not ask my young readers where they would prefer spending eternity. There could be but one answer to such a question. But allow me, in concluding, to remark that time is very short and uncertain.

Death

is very busy around us; and ere the summer flowers of which you have been reading bloom, the summons may come for some of us to exchange worlds. Then let us not forget that as the tree falls so it lies, and that as death leaves us judgment will find us. Many who enjoyed the flowers with us last summer have long since been carried to their last resting-place. Let us so live that whenever death Comes, it may find us ready to be transported to that land,

Where everlasting spring abides
And never withering flowers.

Though most of the readers of the "Juvenile Companion are strangers to me now, I trust we shall eventually have the pleasure of meeting and becoming friends in our Father's house above.

Varieties.