souls, we will spend some other in the same way, when my engagements will allow of it. Now, it is time to retire, as we have gone beyond our usual hour. I see that little Julia is fast asleep, and the best place for her is a snug little bed.

Charles and Louisa thanked their father for the pleasure he had given them, and which he promised to renew for them another time. The evening was concluded by the reading of the word of God and by prayer; for Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont, convinced of the salutary influence as well as the duty of family worship, never omitted it. The children then went cheerfully to bed, in the happy peace of mind which the reflections of their pious parents had tended to inspire.

21

THE SNOW AND THE BIRDS.

"Do you see, Louisa," said Charles to his sister, "do you see these poor little sparrows? they are benumbed with cold, they look as if they were very hungry, and they cannot find much by scratching the snow."

Louisa came to the window, and saw indeed upon the terrace a very large number of sparrows seeking for food; but the snow which covered the earth prevented them from finding either seed or insects. Some of them came close up to the window to see if there was any thing to be had there.

"Poor birds," said Louisa, "you are very much to be pitied; you have not, like us, a constant supply of food, untouched by the bad weather. Mother," said she, "I should like very much to give them some crumbs of bread, but I am afraid that opening the window will drive them away."

Mrs. Beaumont. They will take themselves away at the noise that you make, but will afterwards come back, as hunger makes them tame.

Charles opened the window as softly as was possible. His sister and himself threw out upon the ledge some crumbs of bread. They then withdrew, and had the satisfaction of seeing that the little birds came up merrily to eat the meal that had been prepared for them.

"Mother," said Louisa, "it is the snow which covers the ground at this season that deprives these little birds of their needful food. I do not wish to complain of the snow. I remember the remarks I made upon the rain, which were so displeasing to you; I should like you, therefore, very much to tell me of what service is the snow."

Mrs. Beaumont. I am delighted, my child, to find that my observations were not lost upon you; and I will tell you, to satisfy your curiosity, that the snow which children generally love, because they can amuse themselves with making snow-balls out of it, is of real use. It protects the ground and the grass, which experiences such sharp frosts that if it were not for this protection it would die. It has the same effect as the mats which you have seen the gardener put over young plants which are easily injured by the frost. As fast as the snow melts, the water which gently penetrates the earth is an excellent fertilizer, and it has been noticed that the harvests are best in those years in which there has been the most abundant falls of snow. The snow, in melting,

supplies the springs and the rivers, and produces also a grateful coolness to compensate in some measure for the effects of the heat of summer. You see, children, that the wisdom and goodness of the Creator are conspicuous in every object which presents itself to our notice. We must have cold in winter, and our heavenly Father has taken care to clothe the earth with a covering which preserves it, and which becomes afterwards a valuable fertilizer.

"I did not think," said Charles, "that the snow was of such use as it certainly is to us; but I am still a little distressed about these poor birds."

Mrs. Beaumont. I can, perhaps, furnish you with some consolation on their account. Look what a good meal they are making at this moment. See, children, how happy they are!

Louisa. Could we not let them share our meals every day, mother, until the fine weather returns, which will enable them to find their ordinary food?

Mrs. Beaumont. Certainly, and for that purpose I will furnish you with seed which you may give them after your own meals. I am sure that this employment will make pass very agreeably the half hour of recess which you have at that time. Now I will tell you how these birds, although they find it much more difficult to obtain their food in the winter season, are nevertheless not left entirely destitute. Besides the kinds of birds which migrate to

milder climates, there are others that pass the winter in a sort of lethargy, packed close against each other, under cover. Others again, with which we are more particularly concerned at this moment, live near dwellings, where they always find some support. Do you recollect the words of our Saviour, "Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them." What a touching thought, children, and how much ought we to be struck with it at this moment, when we are going to relate some of the particulars of the care of our heavenly Father for these tender little ones. But let us not stop here; let us follow the remarks of our Saviour, who adds, "Are ye not much better than they?" Charles, what does he mean to tell us in these words?

Charles. That he takes still more care of us than he does of the birds.

Mrs. Beaumont. Yes; and that we ought to intrust ourselves entirely to this fatherly goodness; having the firm confidence that He will never leave us, but will bless our labour and our cares. But the hour of recess is past, we must resume our employments. Louisa, continue your sewing; and you, Charles, apply yourself to your lesson again, that your father may find it finished at his return.

In the evening, when the family were around the fire, the children were eager to tell their father of the