ollow the dear Saviour, who so loved their
little ones, that He gathered them into his fold."

* * * * * *

The death of loved ones frequently softens the heart. A few days ago, I
buried a dear, sweet girl belonging to the Sabbath-school, only sixteen
years of age. At the funeral service a man who had been formerly an
infidel was completely broken down. Why? because his little boy was
taken regularly to the school by this girl, and he inquired of his
father, "Now that Fannie is dead, and has gone to be with Jesus, who
will take me to the school?" The father responded, and said, "I will."
Ever since the father takes him there, and now attends the services at
the church.

CHAPTER XXI.

WINTER LIFE AND SCENES.

Shall He come and find me standing
From the worldling's joy apart,
Outside of its mirth and folly,
With a true and loyal heart?

On one occasion, in reference to a severe winter, she writes: "This has
been the hardest winter I have known for years." The winters in New York
are sometimes very severe. And here we are reminded of Thomson's vivid
description of it in his "Seasons." He prefixes it with this wonderful
prayer:

"Father of light and life! thou God supreme!
O, teach me what is good! teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit! and feed my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace and virtue pure;
Sacred substantial, never-fading bliss!"

"SNOW MANTLES THE EARTH. DISTURBS THE COMFORT OF MANKIND.

"The keener tempests rise; and fuming down
From all the livid east, or piercing north,
Thick clouds ascend; in whose capacious womb
A vapory deluge lies, to snow congealed.
Heavy they roll their fleecy world along,
And the sky saddens with the gathered storm."

We all know that a northwest snow-storm in this city is very cold and
biting. But amid the blinding snow-drift this woman could be seen
wending her way to homes of want, poverty, and wretchedness.

In order to recognize and appreciate her labors we have only to
contrast her aims and aspirations with another and far different class
that abound in all large cities, so graphically described by Pollock:

Ah! little think the gay licentious proud,
When pleasure, power, and affluence surround;
Ah! little think they of the sad variety of pain:
How many pine in want; how many bleed,