Children, will you think of that precept?

Conversing with two lads once, I asked one, Who wrote the Bible, good men, or bad men?  “Good men, of course,” was the response.  “But how do you know they were good men?” I rejoined.  And he said, “Because,”—­a very common and very foolish answer,—­and was silent.  “I think,” said the other lad, the younger of the two, “that good men wrote the Bible, because good men love the Bible, and wicked men don’t.”

Can you give another reason as good?

Now I have told you, briefly, of the four evangelists.  They were good men, honest-minded and sincere.  Wicked men, all men, act from motives.  But they could have had no motive to deceive.  They lost friends, and wealth, and honor, and ease, and gained contempt, persecution, and suffering, by preaching the gospel.  Their conduct is full evidence that they were pure and good men.  And, if they were good men, they wrote the truth; and, by their labors we have a correct and faithful account of the life of Jesus.  Study these books, and by them be made wise.  Above all, remember the precept of John, “Little children, love one another.”

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MAY-DAY.

BY MRS. NANCY T. MUNROE.

It is spring,—­a backward spring, it is true, for now it is the first week in May, and not a flower to be seen except the yellow dandelion, not a blossom even on a cherry tree; nothing is green but the grass, and that—­yes, that is very green, especially this piece before my window; it seems a relief to look upon it.

Poor May-day revellers!  May-day this year was pleasant; that is, the sun shone, the sky was blue, and the grass was green, in spots at least; but the cold north wind was blowing, and one needed to be told it was the first of May.

The sun was higher than usual on such occasions, when the children came upon our hill;—­yet they did come with wreaths and May-poles, but, ah! the flowers were artificial.  Some of the children had on sun-bonnets and thin shawls; they should have worn hoods and cloaks, and then they might have been comfortable.  But it takes a great deal to discourage children from going “Maying.”

Our hill is a famous place for children on May-day, for it is green and pleasant; it is glorious to run down its sides, and pleasant to sit on its banks, which once were forts, and behind which, in less peaceful days, lurked soldiers with weapons of war.  Ah, those children were a pleasant sight, and as I heard their glad laughter, and saw them chase each other down those green banks, I said, Peace is better than war.

“Please, ma’am, will you tell me what time it is?” said a little girl, coming forward from one group of children.

“Quarter of nine,” was the reply.

“I didn’t think it was so late; did you?” said she, turning to her companions.  They had been out perhaps two hours, and thought it was most noon, and back they went to their sports.