THE SIXTH STORMY SUNDAY. THE BIBLE. "Stars are poor books, and oftentimes do miss ; HERBERT. 21 THE SIXTH STORMY SUNDAY. THE BIBLE. HERE are six stormy Sundays that we have had in succession, and to-day I was particularly disappointed that I'could not go to church, for our friend Mr. R. was to preach for us, and was spending the Sunday with us. My friend Anna, who is staying with me for a few days, and who had depended, too, upon hearing Mr. R. preach, was much disappointed. Last night we looked out upon a bright starlight, and were hoping for a pleasant Sunday at last. But in the night the storm rose; we heard the wind blowing the snow against the panes of glass of the window, as though it would dash them through. This morning we found the house more blocked up than it has been all winter. Mr. R. and George looked out in dismay, and George early began his efforts in bringing round the sleigh and the horse, through the heavy drifts, from the stable to the house door. This was accomplished at last, and in due season 244 So we before the hour for the church services, that they might have plenty of time to fight their way through the snow to church. At first Anna and I insisted that we would go, too; but we were plainly shown that we should be in the way, and nothing but a burden, and that George and the horse would have as much as they could do to get "the minister" to church in season. bade them good by for the day, for they would not return till night. We watched them for some time, for the sleigh was overturned three times, and I thought they would have to give up their efforts to pierce through the drifts. At last they disappeared from sight, and we turned away from the window, Anna very despondingly. “I do not understand," she exclaimed, "how you have been able to survive five quiet, solitary, stormy Sundays! I must confess I should find it very hard. I am afraid at the last I should be sighingfor my knitting! Then Anna went on to say she should find it very hard to read what were called "good" books all day long. She liked the services at church, she liked summer Sundays, when the quiet and beauty of nature suggested a quiet and beautiful peace within. But this succession of stormy Sundays, was not it very dreary? I told her I had found it difficult to occupy the time heartily and happily. But I thought some of her complaints should be charged to a retired life, to having my house so far away from other people, rather than to the fact of its being Sunday. If I had five stormy weeks that kept me away from the rest of the world, I should find my week-day occupations, however varied they might be, grow monotonous and dreary without the zest of interruption. But I should not like to say that my resources were not equal to five separate, uninterrupted Sundays, my resources of a library and my own thoughts, that I should be reduced to knitting or sewing, which I am not fond of doing week days, and, on the other hand, am glad to be relieved from. Anna confessed that the novelty of sewing on Sunday might give it a charm that it did not have to her on other days. "Perhaps," said she, "it is the sighing after a forbidden fruit, sour though the fruit may be." Then she asked how much I read of the Old Testament on such days, and we fell to talking of how much or how little it is read now-a-days. Anna said she had found very little interest in the Old Testament; that it seemed to her to present a picture of a God such as she could not comprehend, — cruel and unjust; that the lives that were held up to be the lives of good men were far from being immaculate and pure; that she could not look upon it as a book to be read every day as a lesson for her own daily life, |