THE LAST DAYS OF AUTUMN.

Now the mist is on the mountains,
Reddening in the rising sun;

Now the flowers around the fountains
Perish one by one:

Not a spire of grass is growing,
But the leaves that late were glowing,
Now their blighted green are strowing
With a mantle dun.

Now the torrent brook is stealing

Faintly down the furrowed glade-
Not as when in Winter pealing,
Such a din is made,

That the sound of cataracts falling
Gave no echo so appalling,

As its hoarse and heavy brawling
In the pines' black shade.

Darkly blue the mist is hovering

Round the clifted rock's bare height,
All the bordering mountains covering
With a dim, uncertain light:
Now, a fresher wind prevailing,
Wide its heavy burden sailing,
Deepens as the day is failing,
Fast the gloom of night.
Slow the blood-stained moon is riding
Through the still and hazy air,
Like a sheeted spectre gliding

In a torch's glare;

Few the hours her light is given-
Mingling clouds of tempest driven
O'er the mourning face of heaven,
All is blackness there.

PERCIVAL.

seemed to be the refrain of an old English ballad, probably contemporaneous with the Gunpowder Plot itself. By nine o'clock it was pitch dark. A sharp frosty wind blew keenly over the bleak down, Now for the great event of the night. The parson and the squire, for whom we had been waiting, arrived, and were greeted by a hearty cheer, which rang out in the still night air, with a fulness which only Englishmen can give. The sound was heard in the village far away below us, and the bells struck up from the old church tower with a merry peal. Glimmering lights flashed out here and there, gradually breaking into a broader, brighter glare as the bonfires were lit up in the valley and on the adjacent heights. The clergyman gave a short and appropriate address on the event commemorated, speaking of God's providential care of England in seasons of peril, reprehending the crime contemplated, denouncing popery strongly, yet without bitterness, and calling upon his parishioners to live as loyal subjects and good Christians. The squire then stepped forward, and igniting a wisp of straw, thrust it into the huge pile, which caught fire rapidly, and soon was all a-flame. The men cheered, the boys danced and shouted, the dogs barked, fireworks cracked and hissed in every direction. What grand masses of light and shade as the tongues of flame shot up high into the air, and then fell back with magical variation!

WINTER.

"Thou hast made Summer and Winter."-Psalm 1xxiv. 17.

HE God of the Bible is the God of Nature, and in the return of each successive season we acknowledge the Most High God, from whom all the powers of Nature are derived, and by whom all its laws have been ordained. His hand may be seen in the frosts and snows of Winter as much as in the fruitful beauty of Summer. The day is Thine, the night also is Thine: Thou hast prepared the light of the sun. Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; Thou hast made Summer

and Winter."

In the book of Job, so full of splendid imagery and sublime sentiment, the Divine intervention in the seasons is often impressively declared. The wind, as the breath of the Lord, binds the earth and congeals the streams: "By the breath of God frost is given, and the breadth of the waters is straitened." The snow is represented as a servant, as if conscious of subjection and obedient to the voice of the Supreme: "For He saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth." In those questions and challengings which put to shame the wisdom of man, and make him feel his ignorance and littleness, the Lord asks of Job, "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the day of battle and war? Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops of dew? Out of whose womb came the ice ?-and the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it?" In the book of Psalms we have similar ascriptions. He giveth snow like wool: He scattereth the hoar He casteth forth His ice like morsels; who can stand before His cold?" "Fire and hail; snow and vapours; stormy wind," as if instinct with intelligence, "fulfilling His word," obey His bidding and show forth His praise.

frost like ashes.

In Winter, as in every other season, we may recognise the faithfulness of God. We recall the promise made after the Deluge: "While the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and

winter, and day and night shall not cease." The faithfulness of God in one thing is it not a pledge of His faithfulness in all ? And should not fulfilment of His promises in the dispensation of providence confirm our faith in the fulfilment of His promises in the dispensation of grace? shall He be faithful to the world and not to His church? All promises are confirmed in Christ. When we behold the descending shower, or watch the feathery snow with noiseless fall, as we listen to itssilence, or feel it yield beneath our tread, or see it melting before the breath of the southern breeze, we must be inapt scholars in reading the book of Nature, if it do not lead our thoughts to the book of Revelation, and teach us to reflect on the faithfulness of God to His word. "For as the rain cometh down and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth; it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it."

Winter may suggest thoughts of Divine mercy and love. Some of the most expressive emblems of Scripture are derived from its imagery. When we look at the dazzling whiteness and perfect purity of the newlyfallen snow, do we not seem to read in it a mild message of mercy and love from God, who employs it to set forth the purity which he can give to the returning sinner, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow?" And again, in the fifty-first Psalm, “Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."

With Winter sights and scenes we shall associate thoughts of the mercy and love of Jesus, who was "laid in a manger" in Winter. Or the glistering robe in which the earth is wrapped may remind us of that other scene when the raiment of Jesus became shining, "exceeding white as snow;" or of the sight which met the eyes of the wondering women when they came to the sepulchre and the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it. "His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow;" or we may think of the vision of the glorified Saviour which dazzled the eyes of the beloved John, who says, “His head and His hairs were white like wool, as white as snow.'

Winter serves to remind us of the transitory character of earthly things. What a swift and almost sudden change has passed over scenes and objects which we so recently admired! The glowing beauty of the garden adorned with its garniture of flowers; the vast variety of the