THE NORTHCR1IOT LILIES. cannot 'rejoice always' if we carry every little fretting care about with us." "But the trials are so little, papa!" Are they too little to disturb your quietude of mind? Are they too insignificant to make you cross?" Mary did not answer at first; she did not like the word-who does? especially at eighteen. When we have lived longer, and know ourselves better, we find that, harsh and disagreeable as the term crossness " is, it is more true than all its counterfeits, of which "vexation," "wounded feeling," and "nervousness," carry away the palm. But if Mary was proud, she was also honest; and by-and-by she lifted up her head. Papa, the wor- ries often do make me cross I know, and to be cross is wrong; then what can I do ?" Do this, my child. If the worries, small though they seem, have power to affect your temper, you must turn them to good account and let them help you in the cultivation of patience. He that ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city,' and we cannot rule the spirit in our own strength: to turn the care into a blessing we must cast it on God. We talk of bearing the cross; but if we do not bear it cheerfully, accepting it humbly and in loving faith, we do not take it up, we let it lie in our path; and thus what might be our greatest blessing becomes a stumbling- "block. But it is late, my child. Good night." Good night, papa." God bless you, dearest! and think of the lilies: 'Shall He not much more care for you ?' Mary did think of them. She had told her father of only a few of her difficulties; to-night she told them all to her heavenly Father, and as she remembered how she had been helped before and guided in her -i