Stick to your pledge, Wilkins, and I will take care of the rest," said the old captain, as his friend took the basket. "If you have me and I will artime to-morrow, call on ask-range the papers.

A few moments Captain Walker gazed into the face of his visitor, and then he ed:

"Have you pledged yourself, yet?" "Before God, and in my heart, I have; but one of my errands here was to get you to write me a pledge, and have it made to my wife and children.”

Captain Walker sat down to his table and wrote out the required pledge, and then, in a trembling, but bold hand, Thomas Wilkins signed it.

As Thomas Wilkins once mo e entered the streets, his tread was light and easy. A bright light of joyousness shone in every feature, and as he wended his way homeward, he felt, in every avenue of his soul, that he was once more a MAN!

The gloomy shades that ushered in the night of the thirty-first of December, had fallen over the snow-clad earth. Within the miserable dwelling of Mrs. Wilkins, there was more of comfort than we found when first we visited her, but yet nothing had been added to the furniture of the place.— For the last six days, her husband had come home every evening, and gone away before

time, she knew that he had drunk no intoxicating beverage, for already had bis face begun to assume the stamp of its former manhood,and every word that he had spoken had been kind and affectionate. To his

“Wilkins,” said the old man, as he took his visitor by the hand, "I have watched well your countenance, and weighed your words. I KNOW you speak the truth. When I bought that cottage from your creditors. six years ago, I paid them one thousand dol-daylight every morning, and, during that lars for it. It has not been harmed, and is as good as it was then. Most of the time I have received good rent for it. Now, sir, you shall have it for just what I paid for it, and each month you shall pay me such a sum as you can comfortably spare, till it is all paid. I will ask you for no rent, nor for a cent of interest. You shall have a deed of the estate, and in return I will take but a single note or mortgage,upon which you can have your own time."

children he had brought new shoes and warmer clothing, and to herself he had given such things as she stood in immediate need of, but yet, with all this, he had been taciturn and thoughtful, showing a dislike to all questions, and only speaking such words Thomas Wilkins tried to thank the old as were necessary. The poor, devoted, lovman for his kindness, but he only sank backing wife began to hope. And why should into his chair and wept like a child; and she not? For six years her husband had not been thus before. One week ago she dreaded his approach, but she now found herself waiting for him with all the anxiety of former years. Should all this be broken ; should this new charm be swept away?— Eight o'clock came, and so did uiue, and and yet her husband came not !

while he sat with his face buried in his hands, the old man slipped from the room. And when at length he returned, he bore in bis hand a neatly covered basket.

“Come, come,” the captain exclaimed,"cheer up, my friend. Here are some tit-ten, bits for your wife and children- take them home; and, believe me, Wilkins, if you feel half as happy in receiving the favor as I do in bestowing it, you are happy indeed."

"O, God! God will bless you for this sir!" exclaimed the kindness-stricken man ; “and if I betray your confidence, may I die on

the instant!"

Mother," said little Charles, just as the clock struck ten, seeming to have awakened from a dreary slumber, "Isn't this the last night of the old year?"

"Yes, my son."

"And do you know what I have been dreaming, dear mother? I dreamed that father had brought us new-year's presents,

just the same as he used to. But he won't, they seemed to smile upon the travelers will he? He's too poor, now!" from out their twinkling eyes of light. Si"No, my dear boy, we shall have no oth-ently Wilkins led the way, and silently his

er present than food; and even for that we must thank dear father. There, lay your head in my lap again."

The boy laid his curly heal once more in his mother's lap, and with tearful eyes she gazed upon his innocent form.

wife and children followed. Several times

the wife gazed up in her husband's countenance; but, from the strange expression that rested there, she could make out nothing that tended to satisfy her.

At length, a slight turn in the road brot then suddenly upon the pretty white cot

The clock struck eleven! The poor wife was yet on her tireless, sleepless watch!tage where, years before, they had been so But hardly had the sound of the last stroke died away, ere the snow-crust gave back the sound of a foot-fall, and in a moment more her husband entered. With a trembling fear she raised her eyes to his face, and a wild thrill of joy went to her heart, as she saw that all there was open and bold-only those manly features looked more joyous, more proud than ever.

"Lizzie," said he in mild, kind accents "I am late to night, but business has detained me; and now I have a favor to ask of you."

Name it, dear Thomas, and you shall not as a second time," cried the wife, as

happy. They approached the spot. The show in the front yard had been shoveled away, and a path led up to the piazza. Wilkins opened the gate-his wife, trembling, her husband opened the door, and in the enfollowed, but wherefore, she knew not. Then try they were met by the smming countethem into the parlor, where a warm fire nance of old Captain Walker, who ushered glowed in the grate, and where everything looked neat and comfortable. Mrs. Wilking turned her gaze upon the old man, and then upon her husband. Surely, in that greeting between the poor man and the rich, there was none of that constraint which would

she layed her hand confidently upon her have been expected.

husband's arm.

They met rather as friends and neighbors. What could it mean? Hark, the clock strikes twelve. The old year is gone-a new, a bright-winged cycle is about to commence its flight over the earth.

Thomas Wilkins took the hand of his wife within his own, and then drawing from his bosom a paper, he placed it in her hand, remarking, as he did so:

"Lizzie, this is your husband's present for the new year."

The wife took the paper and she opened

"Ah, no questions. Remember your pro-it. She realized its contents at a glance, but

mise."

she could not read it word for word, for the streaming tears of a wild, frantic joy would not let her. With a quick, nervous movement she placed the priceless pledge next her bosom, and then, with a low murmur, like the gentle whispering of some heavenbound angel, she fell. half fainting, into her husband's arms.

Lizzie Wilkins knew not what all this meant, nor did she think to care; for anything that could please her husband she would have done with pleasure, even though it had wrenched her very heart-strings. In a short time the two children were ready; then Mrs. Wilkins put on such articles of dress as she could command, and soon they "Look up, look up, my own dear wife," were in the road. The moon shone brightly, uttered the redeemed man, “look up and the stars peeped down upon the carth, and su il: upon your husband, and you, too, my

children, gather about your father-for a Weeks passed on, and nothing more was said on the subject. My father lived in a log-house which contained one room below and one above. One night a tremendous wind arose, and at midnight blew off the entire roof of the house. My mother alarmed at the crash, ran up the ladder, and putting her head into the roofless chamber, cried

husband and a father henceforth will I ever be. Look up, my wife. There-now Lizzie, feel proud with me, for we stand within our own house. Yes, this cottage is once more my own; and nothing but the hand of death shall again take us hence. Our good, kind friend here will explain it all; O, Lizzie, if there is happiness on earth, it shall henceforth be ours. Let the past be forgotten, and with this, the dawning of a new year, let us commence to live in the future." Gently the husband and wife sank upon their knees, clasped in each other's arms, and, clinging joyfully to them, knelt their conscious, happy children. A prayer from the husband's lips wended its way to the Throne of Grace, and, with the warm tears trickling down his aged face, old Captain Walker responded a heartfelt "Amen."

*

Five years have passed away since that

"Children, are you all there?"

Yes, mother!" piped a small and terrified voice; "yes, we are all here; and if the day of judgement has come, it was me that told the lie!"

To how many "children of larger growth," does a similar repentance come, and from similar causes; the "still small voice" amid the storm.

WHAT THE SUNBEAM DOES.

HEAT, or the caloric portion of the sunhappy moment. Thomas Wilkins has clear-beam, is the great cause of life and motion ed his pretty cottage from all incumbrance, in this our world. As it were with a magicand a happier or more respected family does not exist. And Lizzie, that gentle, confiding wife, as she takes that simple paper from the drawer, and gazes again and again upon the magic pledge it bears, weeps tears of joy Were all the wealth of the Indies poured out in one glittering, blinding pile at her feet, and all the honors of the world added thereto, she would not, for the whole countless sum, give in exchange one single word from that pledge which constituted her husband's present.-Temperance Chart.

anew.

THE CHILD OF JUDGEMENT.

I HEARD a story the other day, (writes a friend and correspondent of the Knickerbocker,) which amused me. An old lady says:

"When my father moved to the new country, one of us children once told a lie. My mother could not ascertain the culprit, but a lie lay between us."

"Well," said she, "you may escape now; but you may be sure that I will know at some day which of you has told a lie."

al energy, it causes the winds to blow and the waters to flow, vivifies and animates all nature, and then bathes it in refreshing dew. The intensity of the heat which we receive depends on the distance of the earth from the sun, its great source, and still more on the relative position of the two orbs: since in winter we are nearer the sun than we are in summer, yet, in consequence of the position of the earth at that season, the sun's rays fall obliquely on its northern hemisphere, rendering it far colder than at any other period of the year.

A great portion of the heat-rays which are emitted by the sun are absorbed in their passage through the atmosphere which surrounds our globe. It is calculated that about one-third of the heat-rays which fall on it never reach the earth, which adds another to the many beneficent purposes fulfilled by our gaseous envelope, screening us from the otherwise scorching heat. It is curious to trace the varied fates of the calorific rays which strike on the surface of the earth.Some at once on falling are reflected, and, passing back through the atmosphere, are

comes much heated. It is the property of air to expand when heated, and, when expanded, it is necessarily lighter than the cooler air around it. Consequently it rises. As it rises, the cooler air at once takes its place. Rushing from the temperate and polar regions to supply the want, the warm air which has risen flows toward the poles, and descends there, loses its heat, and again travels to the tropics. Thus a grand circulation is continually maintained in the atmosphere, These ærial currents, being affected by the revolution of the earth, do not move due north and south, as they otherwise would.— Hence while they equalize the temperature of the atmosphere, they also preserve its purity; for the pure oxygen evolved by the luxuriant vegetation of the equatorial regions is wafted by the winds to support life in the teeming population of the temperate zones, while the air from the poles bears carbonic

lost amid the immensity of space; others are absorbed or imbibed by different bodies, and, after a time are radiated from them; but the greater part of the beams which reach the earth during the summer are absorbed by it, and conveyed downward to a considerable distance, by conduction from particle to particle. Heat also spreads laterally from the regions of the equator to the poles, thereby moderating the intense cold of the arctic and antarctic circles, and in winter when the forest-trees are covered with snow, their deeply-penetrating roots are warmed by the heat, which, as in a vast store-house, has been laid up in the earth, to preserve life during the dreary winter. The rays which fall on the tropical seas descend to the depth of about three hundred feet. The sun's attraction for the earth being also stronger at that quarter of the world, the heated waters are drawn upward, the colder waters from the poles rush in, and thus a great heated current is pro-acid gas on its wings to furnish food for the duced, flowing from the equator northward and southward, which tends to equalize the temperature of the earth. The sailor also knows how to avail himself of this phenomenon. When out at sea, despite his most skillful steering, he is in constant danger of shipwreck, if he fails to estimate truly the force and direction of those currents which are dragging him insensibly out of the true course. His compass does not help him hore, neither does any log yet known give a perfectly authentic result. But he knows that this great gulf-stream has a stated path and time, and, by testing from hour to hour the temperature of the water through which he is proceeding, he knows at what point he is meeting this current, and reckons accord-er ingly.

rich and gorgeous plants of the tropics.Thus the splendid water-lily of the Amazon, the stately palm-tree of Africa, and the great banyan of India, depend for nourishment on the breath of men and animals in lands thousands of miles distant from them, and in return, they supply their benefactors with vivifying oxygen.

Little less important, and still more beautiful is the phenomenon of dew, which is produced by the power of radiating heat, possessed in different degrees by all bodies. The powers both of absorbing and of radiating heat, in great measure, depend on the color of bodies-the darker the color, the greater the power; so that each lovely flow

bears within its petals a delicate thermometer, which determines the amount of heat each shall receive, and which is always the We have already said that heat was the amount essential to their well-being. The producer of the winds, which are so essential queenly rose, the brilliant carnation, the fair to the preservation of the purity of the at-lily, and the many-colored anemone, all mosphere. In order to understand their ac-basking in the same bright sunshine, enjoy tion, we shall consider the stupendous phe- different degrees of warmth, and when night nomenon of the trade-winds, which is sim-descends, and the heat absorbed by day is ilar to that of the current we have described. The rays of the sun falling vertically on the regions between the tropics, the air there be

radiated back, and the bodies become cooler than the surrounding air, the vapor contained in the atmosphere is deposited in the form