A year marked by particular occurrences, and you will see what I mean -see how, amidst the seeming disder, there was yet most real order

, amidst the busy working together of heterogeneous materials, there was no confusion-how, amidst

your wanderings, you were, contrary to present belief, being led by An unseen hand along the "right way Yes! to One Eye there is no perplexity in this tangled skein of E existence. To recur to a Armer figure, the texture of our lives Woven according to pattern. Oh! how intricate is that pattern. We l not be able to trace it perfectly antil the tapestry is finished.

This truth of which we have been treating is most consoling. And there are times, reader, when we need all the consolation it supplies. Seasons when disappointment lies upon us like a nightmare, and we know not how to shake that nightmare off-when sorrow darkens all the prospect-when the heavens are clothed with blackLess, and all glorious things of earth are hidden beneath an awful and unatural night-then, if we are to know Lght of rest, we must lay our throbng heads upon this pillow-if any gat is to steal into our chambers, But in the gloom, it must come through this one reft in the overhangng cloud. But

II. Our life is to be viewed in blation to God's final purposes. The apostle is speaking of those who are the called according to God's purpose." It is of their lives he affirms at all things work together for d" and here he is evidently viewthe circumstances of their present with a reference, more or less direct, to that which is the object of

calling, namely, their future Dessedness.

I began by saying that life is to be ed by us as a whole; and, now, wing up my subject, I take a We sweep, and affirm that our existece, the whole period of our being, regardless of diversity of states, is

thus to be viewed. The period of our sojourning on earth is but a brief -oh! how brief!-part of that immortality to which We are born. Therefore, if we consider only these scanty outlying regions of the boundless land, our knowledge will not only be meagre, it will sadly mislead us. To understand the present, the eye must essay to explore the limitless spaces of the future, for the NOW and the THEN are but one.

So life is an introduction to immortality. We never get beyond our childhood, our pupilage, whilst we are here. The saint, whose hair is frosty with age, is still a child at school. Therefore we must expect to be treated as children, and must ever bear in mind that, as children, we are necessarily ignorant as to our highest "good," often unable to understand the discipline to which we gre subjected, blind to the purpose of many of the laws and regulations of our school-house. The child only perceives the wisdom of his early training when he comes to reap the fruit of that training in after life. Whit at school he is apt to think his tasks irksome and useless, to wonder why he is set to learn this lesson and the other, to complain of restrictions, and to cry out against imagined severity. But when he arrives at manhood, and comes to battle with the difficulties of life, he is thankful that a firm will bound him down to the dull routine of study, and exercised a necessary and beneficial control. And could the school-boy, fretting at his task, look forward into coming days, and see the relation in which his present hated work stands to the work of after life, he would dry his tears, and no longer pine for harmful freedom.

This, then, is but our childhood; and our calculations must prove false if the most important element is ignored by us-if our visions reach not beyond death's dark valley-if we look not beyond the bordering mountains to see in other lands "the far-off interest of tears."

THE NUTCRACKERS OF NUTCRACKER LODGE.

BY MRS. H. B. STOWE.

MR. AND MRS. NUTCRACKER were as respectable a pair of squirrels as ever

gray brushes over their backs. They were animals of a settled and serious turn of mind-not disposed to run after vanities and novelties, but

ng their station in life with prudence and sobriety. Nutcracker Lodge as a hole in a sturdy old chestnut verhanging a shady dell, and was id to be as respectably kept an estabishment as there was in the whole forest. Even Miss Jenny Wren, the greatest gossip in the neighbourhood, Lever found anything to criticise in its arrangements, and old Parson Toohit, a venerable owl who inhabited a branch somewhat more exalted, as became his profession, was in the habit

saving himself much trouble in his parochial exhortations by telling his parishioners, in short, to " look at the Nakrackers," if they wanted to see What it was to live a virtuous life. Everything had gone on prosperously with them, and they had reared many uccessive families of young Nuttrackers, who went forth to assume

places in the forest of life, and to redect credit on their bringing up,-so hat, naturally enough, they began to have a very easy way of considering themselves models of wisdom.

But at last it came along, in the course of events, that they had a son tamed Featherhead, who was destined

bring them a great deal of anxiety. Nobody knows what the reason is, but the fact was, that Master Featherhead Was as different from all the former children of this worthy couple as if he had been dropped out of the moon into their nest, instead of coming into it in the general way. Young Featherhead

squirrel of good parts and a lively disposition, but he was sulky

and contrary and unreasonable, and always finding matter of complaint in everything his respectable papa and mamma did. Instead of assisting in the cares of a family-picking up nuts and learning other lessons proper to a young squirrel-he seemed to settle himself, from his earliest years, into a sort of lofty contempt for the Nutcrackers, for Nutcracker Lodge, and for all the good old ways and institutions of the domestic hole, which he declared to be stupid and unreasonable, and entirely behind the times. To be sure, he was always on hand at mealtimes, and played a very lively tooth on the nuts which his mother had collected, always selecting the very best for himself; but he seasoned his nibbling with so much grumbling and discontent, and so many severe remarks, as to give the impression that he considered himself a peculiarly illused squirrel, in having to "eat their old grub," as he very unceremoniously called it.

Papa Nutcracker, on these occasions, was often fiercely indignant, and poor little Mamma Nutcracker would shed tears, and beg her darling to be a little more reasonable; but the young gentleman seemed always to consider himself as the injured party.

Now, nobody could tell why or wherefore Master Featherhead looked upon himself as injured and aggrieved, since he was living in a good hole, with plenty to eat, and without the least care or labour of his own; but he seemed rather to value himself upon being gloomy and dissatisfied. While his parents and brothers and sisters were cheerfully racing up and down the branches, busy in their domestic toils, and laying up stores for the winter, Featherhead sat gloomily apart, declaring himself weary of existence, and feeling himself at liberty to quarrel with everybody and everything about him. Nobody understood

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him, he said; he was a squirrel of a peculiar nature, and needed peculiar treatment, and nobody treated him in a way that did not grate on the finer nerves of his feelings. He had higher notions of existence than could be bounded by that old rotten hole in a hollow tree; he had thoughts that soared far above the miserable, petty details of every day life; and he could not and would not bring down these soaring aspirations to the contemptible toil of laying up a few chestnuts or hickorynuts for winter.

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'Depend upon it, my dear," said Mrs. Nutcracker solemnly, "that fellow must be a genius."

"Fiddlestick on his genius!" said old Mr. Nutcracker;" what does he do ?"

"O nothing, of course; that's one of the first marks of genius. Geniuses, you know, never can come down to common life."

"He eats enough for any two,” remarked old Nutcracker, "and he never helps to gather nuts."

My dear, ask Parson Too-whit; he has conversed with him, and quite agrees with me that he says very uncommon things for a squirrel of his age; he has such fine feelings-so much above those of the common crowd!"

"Fine feelings be hanged!" said old Nutcracker; "when a fellow eats all the nuts that his mother gives him, and then grumbles at her, I don't believe much in his fine feelings. Why don't he set himself about something? I'm going to tell my fine young gentleman, that if he doesn't behave himself, I'll tumble him out of the nest, neck and crop, and see if hunger won't do something towards bringing down his fine airs."

But then Mrs. Nutcracker fell on her husband's neck with both paws, and wept, and besought him so piteously to have patience with her darling, that old Nutcracker, who was himself a soft-hearted old squirrel, was prevailed upon to put up with the airs and graces of his young scapegrace a little longer and secretly in

his silly old heart he revolved the que tion whether possibly it might not that a great genius was actually come of his household.

The Nutcrackers belonged to the o established race of the Grays, but the were sociable, friendly people, ar kept on the best of terms with a branches of the Nutcracker fam The Chipmunks of Chipmunk Hole were a very lively, cheerful, social race, and on the very best of ter with the Nutcracker Grays. You Tip Chipmunk, the oldest son, was all respects a perfect contrast to Mast Featherhead. He was always live and cheerful, and so very alert in pro viding for the family, that old Mr. an Mrs. Chipmunk had very little car but could sit sociably at the door their hole and chat with the neighbour quite sure that Tip would bring every thing out right for them, and hav plenty laid up for winter.

Now Featherhead took it upon hin for some reason or other, to look dow upon Tip Chipmunk, and on ever occasion to disparage him in the soci circle, as a very common kinde squirrel, with whom it would be be not to associate too freely.

"My dear," said Mrs. Nutcracke one day, when he was expressing the ideas, it seems to me that you a too hard on poor Tip; he is a most ex cellent son and brother, and I wis you would be civil to him."

"O, I don't doubt that Tip is gon enough," said Featherhead, care lessly; "but then he is so very com mon; he hasn't an idea in his skul above his nuts and his hole. He w good-natured enough, to be sure these very ordinary people often are good-natured-but he wants manner he has really no manner at all; and as to the deeper feelings, Tip hasn' the remotest idea of them. I mean always to be civil to Tip when he comes in my way, but I think the less we see of that sort of people the better; and I hope, mother, you won' invite the Chipmunks at Christmas these family dinners are such a bore""

"But, my dear, your father thinks great deal of Chipmunks; and it is old family custom to have all the natives here at Christmas."

For my part, I find these uncommon people the most tiresome; they are sot content with letting us carry the tole load, but they sit on it, and sold at us while we carry them."

But old Mr. Nutcracker, like many ether good old gentlemen squirrels, found that Christmas dinners and

Other

things were apt to go as his wife sad, and his wife was apt to go as young Featherhead said; and so, when Christmas came, the Chipmunks were not invited, for the first time for many years. The Chipmunks, however, tock all pleasantly, and accepted poor ald Mrs. Nutcracker's awkward apologes with the best possible grace, and Fang Tip looked in on Christmas ning with the compliments of the son and a few beech-nuts, which be had secured as a great dainty. The fact was, that Tip's little striped For coat was so filled up and overdoing with cheerful good-will to all, at he never could be made to underand that any of his relations could want to cut him; and therefore Featherhad looked down upon him with contempt, and said he had no tact, and couldn't see when he was not wanted. It was wonderful to see how, by Means of persisting in remarks like

sisters, and his poor foolish old mother, got into a way of regarding him as something wonderful, and delighting in his sharp sayings, as if they had been the wisest things in the world.

But at last old papa declared that it was time for Featherhead to settle himself to some business in life, roundly declaring that he could not always have him as a hanger-on in the paternal hole.

"What are you going to do, my boy" said Tip Chipmunk to him one day. "We are driving now a thriving trade in hickory nuts, and if you would like to join us-"

"Thank you," said Featherhead; "but I confess I have no fancy for anything so slow as the hickory trade; I never was made to grub and delve in that way."

The fact was, that Featherhead had lately been forming alliances such as no reputable squirrel should even think of. He had more than once been seen going out in the evenings with the Rats of Rat Hallow-a race whose reputation for honesty was more than doubtful. The fact was, further, that old Longtooth Rat, an old sharper and money-lender, had long had his eye on Featherhead, as just about silly enough for their purpose, engaging him in what he called a speculation, but which was neither more nor less than downright stealing.

Near by the chestnut-tree where Nutcracker Lodge was situated, was a large barn filled with corn and grain, besides many bushels of hazelnuts, chestnuts, and walnuts. Now, old Longtooth proposed to young Featherhead that he should nibble a passage into this loft, and there establish himself in the commission business, passing the nuts and