344
rubbing them against the silver stems of the weeping birch, whose pendant branches shivered over the frozen stream. The little birds, who, during the late storms, seemed to have been annihilated, were now heard chirruping in every sheltered nook, or seen in flocks lightly flitting from field to field. As the day advanced, the plants on the sunny side of the road, glittering with dew drops, exhibited a fine contrast to the part that was still in shade, where every bushy brier and scrambling bramble were clothed in feathery frost-work.
"Yes," said Mrs Mason, as she cast her eyes over the dazzling prospect, "Yes, all the works of God are good and beautiful: all the designs of Providence must terminate in producing happiness and joy. The piercing cold of winter prepares the earth for the production of its summer fruits; and when the sorrows of life pierce the heart, is it not for the same benevolent purpose? When they are never felt, how
