to the

? correction of the stocks, as a bird to

the snare, till a dart strikes through

his liver. . . . But he knowethnot that

the dead ars there, and that her gates

are in the depths of hell.' Terrible

words of inspiration, and terrible

retribution, for where did this impudent

woman come from V Ask the rich man that

with the half-sovereign first tempted

poor Mary. ' Once I was pure as the

snow— but I fell ! Fell like the snow-

flakes from heaven to hell ; Fell to be

trampled as filth in the street ; Fell

to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat.

Pleading, cursing, Dreading to die ;

Selling my soul to whoever would buy ;

Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread ;

Hating the living, and fearing the dead.

Merciful God ! have I fallen so low ;

And yet I was once like the beautiful

snow.' CORPSE IN A BALL-DRESS. YOUTHFUL

LUSTS. By the Rev. THOMAS BINNEY. 'The

lips of a strange woman