"There is a time, we know not when, A short time ago, a man who neglected his soul lay on a dying bed. He was filled with terror; he knew not how to seek mercy; he asked for a minister, who came, and found him sinking fast. No time is to be lost. Stooping over the dying man, he makes several inquiries as to his views and feelings; but there is no reply. "You are a great sinner, but Jesus has died for sinners. Will you trust in him?" There is still no reply: the man has lost his speech. Laying his mouth close to the ear of the dying sinner, the minister in a loud voice speaks to him of sin and of salvation. To his astonishment, he finds that another of the senses is gone: the man has lost his hearing. He asks for an old family Bible; he opens it, and places in succession the promises of Divine mercy through Jesus Christ before the dying man; but the glassy film of death veils his eyes: he cannot see. Overwhelming thought! Every avenue was closed: no beam of heavenly light gleamed across the dark horizon of that parting spirit. Careless, procrastinating spirit, awake, arise, or perish. Christ calls thee. His Spirit is ready to quicken thee and "give thee light." Seek his favour now; ask for that Spirit now. The Father will give Him to them that ask. Repent, believe, and live for ever. Begin the year with earnestness in seeking salvation. Is it not high time to be earnest about your eternal life? "Time is earnest, Drawing nigh: Sinner, wilt thou trifling be? Time and death appeal to thee. "Heaven is earnest; Solemnly Float its voices Down to thee: Thoughtless mortal! art thou gay, "Hell is earnest; Near thy soul: Woe to thee if thou abide Unredeem'd, unsanctified! "Christ is earnest ; Bids thee Come;' Paid thy ransom's Wilt thou spurn thy Saviour's love, "Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." Amen. TED CARROLL; OR, AFTER MANY DAYS.* CHAPTER I. "Now that is too bad of you, mother, to make the cake whilst I was out. You won't let me help you, you dear naughty mother." "Not help me, child! and you have been at work all day helping me. Why I see your work whichever way I turn; there's not the like of you in the street.” "And who helped to make me what I am then?" enquired the first speaker, looking affectionately at the little middle aged woman whom she had been addressing as mother. I wonder what I should have known or be able to do if you had not taught me ?" Well, child, good seed has fallen upon good ground, and thank God for giving the increase: but before you take off your bonnet run with the cake to the bakehouse." Nelly Carroll took the cake from Mary Edmonds, her adopted mother, and with a good-tempered nod, left the room, whilst Mary put away her flour-jar and other materials; and after washing her hands, sat down in her own arm-chair, busily engaged in knitting a stocking for her husband. Some little time elapsed before Nelly returned from the bakehouse; and taking off her bonnet and shawl, she put on a large apron, setting some irons to warm before the fire and placing her ironing-board on the table, observing as she did, I just stepped into Mrs. Fry's, mother, as I came back, to know how the baby was; and she was so poorly and tired, toiling with the poor little thing, that I thought I could not do better than bring away some of the children's rough-dried clothes and iron them for her." "That's right, Nelly; can I help you a bit?" * A Sequel to "Kitty Carroll; or, To the Uttermost." "No, thank you, mother: but I did want to tell you something," and Nelly's face grew very red as she asked, "Didn't you hear me talking as I came in." "Why, yes, I thought I did," replied Mrs. Edmonds, raising her eyes from her knitting, and fixing them upon Nelly, " and I fancied I heard Tom Hopkins's voice too." "It was not fancy, mother," said Nelly, creeping behind Mrs. Edmonds, and putting her arms round her neck. "Tom is always following me about, out of work time; but I don't think he will again." Why not, my child ?" "Because because," stammered Nelly, "I told him I was father's lass, and would never leave him." Mary Edmonds tried to get a peep at Nelly's face, but the young girl held her so tightly in her arms, that she could not manage it, so she merely said, "Let me think; how old are you?" Eighteen, next birthday, mother," whispered Nelly. "To be sure, so you are; and Charley will be thirteen next month; bless my heart, how the years do go by. Well, Tom Hopkins is a steady young fellow; we'll talk to father about it." No, no!" cried Nelly, "I am not going to leave you and father. Please don't say anything to him, or he will think his little lass wants to go away from him, and I could not bear him to think that, indeed I could not," and Nelly burst out crying. "I could not help Tom's coming after me and talking to me, mother," she sobbed out; for he does talk so nice like, only I will not leave both of you for him." There, there!" said Mary, patting the trembling hands on her bosom, "don't cry; we are not going to make you leave us, my darling; so go and do Mrs. Fry's ironing, for the flats are hot by this time." Nelly wiped her eyes, and after kissing Mrs. Edmonds several times, set about her task; whilst Mary from her arm-chair narrowly watched her, thinking of the many changes that had passed over herself and Jim, since they had adopted Charley and Nelly Carroll. "If they brought hard work at first for us," thought the kind little woman, they brought the Lord's blessing also with them. I said they would, and they did; and now I wonder where a girl is to be found to match with our Nelly? Tom Hopkins shows his good sense in choosing Nelly." 66 Nelly Carroll was a tall, fine, healthy girl, not really handsome; indeed, many said she was as black as night, with such dark heavy eyebrows (but they were not her friends, for there was no night in Nelly's face); her large black eyes were softened and lit up with that peculiar expression, that calm, bright look of settled peace and joy, which I sometimes think only God's children possess. A fashionable lady once said to the writer, "You need not tell me what such a person is: I think I can tell a Christian by their eyes; there is a depth and look of rest within them, which the world can never give." Such were Nelly Carroll's. She had early given her heart to God, and had consequently been preserved from the many pitfalls prepared by the enemy of souls for harassing and perplexing the earnest seeker after Divine life, at a later period of their existence. As a child, she had sought and found her Saviour, and staying her mind upon him, had enjoyed rest and peace in her heart, which bespoke its own presence in her gentle countenance and grave yet bright dark eyes. Some kind ladies had had Nelly Carroll taught ironing, so that she was enabled to maintain herself, and frequently add a little to Jim Edmonds's earnings; and her delight was to bring her money at the same time that he gave his wife his wages, and putting it into Mary Edmonds's hand, say, "Your Nelly's wages also." With much difficulty Charley Carroll had been got into one of the public schools of the city where Jim and Mary Edmonds resided, only coming home at holidays; and the cake which Mary had been making at the beginning of this chapter, was provided as a treat for Charley against the next day, “Mothering Sunday,"* when he was expected home. "I suppose Charley will come straight home tomorrow," observed Mrs. Edmonds to Nelly. "Oh yes, mother; the boys go home directly the service is over. How bad it must be for those poor little fellows whose friends live at a distance to have no place to go to. If it had not been for you and father, Charley would have no home to come to either;" and Nelly bent over her work, her eyes glistening with tears of gratitude. So in The fourth Sunday in Lent is called in many parts of England Mothering Sunday.' Where the custom is observed, families meet together for the day; the mother providing a large sugar-covered plum cake for the occasion-called "Mothering cake." tently was she busied with her pleasurable thoughts, that she failed to notice a tap at the door; and it was not until a second and louder tap made Mrs. Edmonds say, "I think somebody's knocking at the door, Nelly," that she left her ironing to open it. Having done so, she discovered an elderly man standing outside, who inquired of her, “Is Ellen Carroll at home?" "Yes," she replied, "I am Ellen Carroll." What, the woman whose name is on the card in the window? I mean the ironer." "Yes, sir, I take in ironing." The man gave a sharp, earnest, searching look at the girl and asked, "What was your mother's name, my girl?" "Ellen Carroll, sir; she died when I was born; my stepmother's name was Kitty." "Then as sure as I stand here, I am your father, child." Nelly gave a little scream and fell back into Mrs. Edmonds' arms; who, having heard the stranger's questions, had come forward to answer them, if necessary. "Please to walk in, sir," said Mary, still holding the trembling girl in her arms; "if you will take a seat, you're quite welcome." Then whispering in Nelly's ear, "Cheer up, my darling, there's nothing to frighten you." She placed her in her own arm-chair and stood beside her. "I am Ted Carroll, ma'am," said the stranger, taking the proffered seat; "tis many a day since I've been in this old city; why it's nearly thirteen years. I have been away all that time, and only got here last night; and all this morning I've been inquiring after Kitty. I did not know where to go or look; when just as I was passing through this street, I saw on a card Ellen Carroll, ironer,' and thought it would be no harm to inquire who Ellen Carroll was? But where's Kitty ?" · Mary Edmonds hesitated; she really did not like to tell the man his poor wife was dead, and had been dead so many years. So she remained silent, looking at him. She saw he had dark, black eyes and eyebrows, like Nelly's; but his hair was quite white, and he was bowed and feeble like a very old man; and as she watched him, he moved about uneasily in the chair, evidently uncomfortable at her survey. Why don't sionately. you tell me where Kitty is?" he asked, pas |