THE TRACT MAGAZINE. The Little Seegoodinall. WAS sitting in my arm-chair, by the window, one cold winter morning. I sat there as a naughty child stands in a corner, not exactly with the tip of my forefinger in my mouth, but with the whole five fingers resting on my head, or, rather, my head resting upon them. I was in a naughty mood-feeling wilful, thinking there was not much good in anything, and especially with anything with which I had to do, or that had to do with me. The truth was, I was idle, had been up late; and all who desire to do well and serve God know what a sad, listless feeling this lateness brings on - what a 66 naughty child" feeling- what a dissatisfied feeling-what an almost angry feeling with every one but the right person oneself! As I sat thus, a slight tap at the glass, as though a leaf had been blown against it, caused me to move two fingers, SO as to get a clear look out. The tap was from the beak of a small brownish-grey bird, which had been evidently blown against the window by the high wind then raging. I guessed this by the extended wings and of the preparatory flourish of the bow on the violin; then, THE SEEGOODINALL is a diminutive bird inhabiting the somewhat thinly-populated regions of Godly Contentment. Its plumage is unprepossessing, being of a dusky hue; it is, nevertheless, a general favourite, for its melodious note is chiefly heard. in winter, or when storms are at their height. In the latter case, it may be heard trying to outswell the winds in a manner that would surprise any listener unaccustomed to the peculiar habits of this song-loving bird. Although it rejoices in sunshine when placed there, it does not seek it; and yet it is remarkable that even its plumage, dusky as it is, has beneath the pinion a few tints that seem to absorb a bright colouring when a sunbeam shines across the bird in its flight: this colour is watched for with delight by those who prize the modest creature for its humble work and unobtrusive life. THE SONG OF THE SEEGOODINALL. The stormy wind is blowing, Oh, blowing loud and bleak; Although they're plain and brown. 1 Thank God that rest is found for me It is a mercy ill deserved Oh, surely I am blest! Ah, ill deserved! should birdie wait Till aught was its by right, 'Twould wait in vain-the day would close, And giftless come the night! Here the seegoodinall stops, preens its wings, and then goes on: I rock upon my leafless bough, I know that God is in the storm, The wind is loud and boisterous- They say that we shall all be starved, The food is all so scant and scarce, But I have found two crumbs to-day, Oh, if to-morrow comes at all 'Twill bring its crumb for me !2 Or, if we are not starved, they say We all must die of cold; What strength is there in our small frame This biting frost to hold? I'll not believe a word of that! Or, if I die to-night, I'll fall as God's own sparrow,? 1 "Fear not, for I have redeemed thee."-Isa. xliii. 1. "Godliness with contentment is great gain."-1 Tim. vi. 6. 3 "Are not two sparrows sold for one farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father."-Matt. x. 29. 'Tis true, the winter has been long, What merry sunshine, fruit and flowers- I only back need cast my sight Of mercy, that have followed me1 And forward? Ah, the lines are broad, For the stamp of love is on them all- And now to other climes I fly Not of cold and cheerless winter, And the blast so fierce and strong; But of never-failing kindness, And love that never spent, But drew closer, closer round me," God loves to hear His creatures pray, Thank God I have a song to sing When summer's sun shines bright; The song ceased; the little seegoodinall shook the snow from its wings, then with a farewell "tweet" it spread them for flight, and was soon beyond my view; doubtless gone 1 "Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life."Psa. xxiii. 6. 2 "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."-Heb. xiii. 5. "I have loved thee with an everlasting love."-Jer. xxxi. 3. 3 "It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto Thy name, O Most High."-Psa. xcii. 1. |