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12.

II. "If any man serve Me, let him follow Me.”—John xii. 26.
"If a man love Me, he will keep My words."—John xiv. 23.
"We should serve in newness of spirit.”—Rom. vii. 6.
"Ye turned to God from idols."—1 Thes. i. 9.

13.

14.

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15. To serve the living and true God."-1 Thes. i. 9.

16. "His servants shall serve Him.”—Rev. xxii. 3.

17. "Henceforth we should not serve sin."—Rom. vi. 6. 18. Follow Me."-Matt. iv. 19.

19.

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"Master, I will follow Thee."—Matt. viii. 19.

20. "They forsook all, and followed Him."-Luke v. II.

21. "Who is willing to consecrate his service this day unto the Lord?" -I Chron. xxix. 5.

22.

"The servant of the Lord must not strive."- -2 Tim. ii. 24. 23. Be ye followers of God, as dear children."--Ephes. v. I.

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24. "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself."—

Matt. xvi. 24.

25. "Every man that hath . . . . learned of the Father cometh unto Me."-John vi. 45.

26. "All men should honour the Son."-John v. 23.

27. "While I live will I praise the Lord."-Psa. cxlvi. 2.

28. "His reward is with Him, and His work before Him."-Isa. xl. 10. "Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”—Matt. xxv. 21.

29.

ESUS, I will follow Thee,

And Thy faithful servant be;
I would choose Thy service now-
Humbly at Thy feet I bow.
Help me, Saviour, that I may
Follow Thee without delay.

Take my heart, Lord, make it Thine;
Through it now, Thy Spirit shine ;
By His influence let it be

Made a temple fit for Thee;

And each motive, wish, and thought,
Into Thy subjection brought.

Thou shalt be my King and Guide,
O'er each thought and step preside.
Reign Thou only in my heart;
Bid the power of sin depart.
Lord, I yield myself to Thee,
Thine for ever let me be !

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Hidden Mercies.

o you like this frosty weather?" was a question I asked a friend whose pinched face and shrugged shoulders plainly told what he felt from the cold, if not what he thought of it. He good-tem

peredly retorted :

"Do you like it ?"

"Certainly!"

"Nonsense; you are joking-that cough of yours doesn't seem much like liking it !"

"Perhaps not; nevertheless, I desire never to quarrel with any of God's good gifts."

"Amongst which, I suppose, you reckon this delightful frost?" he said, half inquiringly and half jestingly; but being myself in earnest, I replied seriously:

"I do, indeed! I am like the old woman who answered, on being asked if she believed the story of the whale swallowing up Jonah, 'Yes, and I'd believe it if the Bible said that Jonah had swallowed up the whale! So I believe that frost is not only a gift, but a good one too, because the Bible tells me so."

"I'm not such a heathen as not to know that frost is mentioned there, but you must help my memory as to where."

"Job says, in chapter 37, verse 10, 'By the breath of God frost is given,"" I replied, at the same time adding, "You will allow that to be a gift which is given ?"

"Granted; but how about its being good, as you are pleased to call this biting, bleaching, bitter cold weather?" "Because the Giver is

"Too wise to err, too good to be unkind.'

And I suppose if you disagree with me, you will agree with that poet who characterises both the Giver and the gift as

"Good when He gives, supremely good,

Nor less when He denies;

E'en crosses in His sovereign hand

Are blessings in disguise.'

"Then this same frost is a blessing, is it? for, truly, if it be one, it is disguised!"

"Exactly so. It is disguised. It is our God's seal set upon the earth to keep its precious fruits in safety for the pleasant hereafter of spring and summer. And all who have treasure stored away there thank God for this beautiful frost."

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But don't you rather forget that it has other effects? Doesn't it sometimes nip our buds and blossoms, and kill our fruit-trees? Would you brave out your assertion, and call that a blessing?"

"Yes; if it taught us wisdom, to put our plants for the future where moth nor-I mean, where the frost and cold cannot touch them."

"Oh! I predict a sermon, and as it is not Sunday I can't stay for one, so I wish you a very good morning, and a prolonged enjoyment of this delicious weather, which I unselfishly hope you may keep all to yourself!"

With a friendly nod he was passing me when I detained him by saying, "There is another text about frost in the same chapter; it is this: 'He causeth it to come, whether for correction . . . . or for mercy.'1 Perhaps this may meet your case, and answer your question better than I can."

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Good-bye; it's too late to wish you a happy new year, or else I would. There's an old man coming-do preach your sermon to him instead of me."

And off went my merry friend; but as the said old man is deaf I will not preach a sermon to him, but have a little talk with you, dear reader, instead, on a subject intimately connected with our nearest, dearest, and highest interests; and I will begin by telling you something about Old John's idea of frost; also how it came to pass that it (frost) is such a favourite of mine. I must commence with the latter.

When I was a child, I was about to be excluded from a party of friends who were going to hear the celebrated Dr. Goulburn preach. "I was too young; I should only go to

1 Job xxxvii. 13.

sleep;" but my mother slipped my hand into hers, hid me cosily beneath her warm cloak, at once from observation and the frost; and it was only when I was found sitting next her in church that my presence there was known.

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I did not understand much of the sermon, but the text at once riveted me; it was, Precious things put forth by the moon."1 A text that seemed to me pictorially illustrated by the bright, large, cold-looking moon, which stared me in the face from a window opposite. Amongst these precious things frost took a prominent place in the preacher's list; and from that moment I entertained a secret reverence for it, and nothing pleased me more than to awake on a fine winter morning and find its glittering white spangles all over the grass; but why these lovely little drops should be compared in the Bible to ashes was beyond my comprehension (I would just here remark, by way of explanation of my knowledge of this text, that since Dr. Goulburn's sermon I had found all the verses in the Bible in which frost is mentioned, and committed them to memory); but I soon learnt the reason. On one occasion I stood watching Old John shaking a sieve over the earth, scattering something that looked very like ashes.

"Why, what are you doing, John, making the ground look so ugly?"

Now Old John was a godly man, and as children we were all half afraid of asking him questions, for fear he would say what we called "something good;" but in the present case I felt quite safe, for what good could possibly come out of ashes? However, I was mistaken; directly I saw him stop his work, and fix his eyes on me, I knew something good was coming from his dear wise old lips; so I had nothing to do but wait in silence for what he should say. In a minute he said reverently, raising his hat, as he always did when quoting Scripture, "He scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes." God Almighty sends down His

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morsels to bless the earth in the same way that Old John throws about his ashes to do it good."

"Humph!" I said, "but I think like diamonds would be better, for the little shining bits of frost are so pretty that I'd like to pick them up and make a necklace of them, only they'd melt so fast, but the ashes are as ugly as ugly can be."

I thought I had said something very witty, but Old John thought differently; and whilst I pertly nodded my head in self-appreciation, he shook his very seriously, saying:

"Take my advice, missie, don't go for to meddle with God's blessed Word. You can't alter a single word of it, and you'll have the worst of it if you try to. He never puts diamonds where ashes ought to be, nor ashes where diamonds are best. Mind this, little one, and you'll mind something that'll save you a mint of trouble. Mind thisGod always puts the frost and ashes in the right place, and the diamonds too."

With these words he again began to shake his sieve over the flower-beds; but he had taught me a lesson, and one that I never forgot. It suggested my remarks to my friend this morning, and sometimes reminds me now, that our heavenly Father's most glorious "hereafters are often hidden beneath a humiliating and mysterious present; and future beauty is often concealed by the dreary weeds of sorrow, in order to bring about the fulfilment of His promise: "Beauty for ashes, the orl of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness."1

Dear reader, how is it with you? Is it frosty weather with your prospects? Does the ring of the frozen ground beneath you sound like a dismal knell for buried hopes? Is affliction heavy upon you? Is it as hard to bear as the nipping frost is? Are you inclined to murmur at a dispensation that at once chills your spirits and conceals your future? Here is comfort for you. "By the breath of God, frost is given." It comes from above-from Heaven; it is

1 Isa. lxi. 3.

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