Sun of the new-born year! I hail thy light; As bursting through the dark clouds that so long Had veiled the glories of each morn and night, Thou pourest over all thy radiance strong; Bidding the chilling rains their fury cease, And smiling on the drenched and languid earth, That, all exulting in her glad release, Puts on the beauty of a second birth, And joys to greet thee. Type art thou, O Sun! Amid the parting clouds thy bright path making, Of that clear Star—the never setting One! That through the pall of darksome ages breaking, With healing beams, still moves, eternal on! And lights the living soul when life’s dim day is gone! * * * * * SOPHY’S FLIRTATION. A COUNTRY SKETCH. BY MRS. M. N. M‘DONALD. “Well, to _my_ mind, a nicer young man doesn’t live any where than Archie Harris. So pleasant spoken, so good tempered, so civil as he is. You ‘may go farther and fare worse,’ I can tell you, Sophy. It’s all very well for girls to be dainty and particular about looks, when they are young and handsome themselves, and think they may catch anybody, but it’s no joke for a girl to settle herself with a man who may be unkind to her by and bye. Archie Harris has that in him which will last in dark days as well as sunshine; something that wont wear out in old age, like your grandfather here, that I’ve lived with forty-five years come next Christmas, and found him just the same, winter and summer. So, as I said before, ‘you may go farther and fare worse,’ Sophy.” And having delivered her sentiments, old Mrs. Middleton took a pinch of snuff, drew her chair a little nearer the fire with an emphatic “hem,” and then resumed her knitting, while she glanced over her spectacles to observe what had been the effect of her speech upon her pretty granddaughter, who was seated on the opposite side of the little round table, engaged in sewing. Sophy Middleton plied her needle with something of a petulant air, while her grandmother spoke, and answered with a slight tone of vexation—“Everybody can’t think alike, that is certain. Archie Harris is well enough in his way, but he isn’t the only man in the world, that is one comfort.” “And why don’t you like him?” pursued the old lady, resolved not to give up the point. “Tell me of one in the whole place that is better, or kinder, or cleverer. _I_ never saw such a one at any rate, and once upon a time, Sophy, you thought Archie a little better than most folks yourself, and have only changed your mind since Philip Greyson came home, I’m thinking.” “Philip Greyson, indeed!” exclaimed Sophy, with a toss of her head, while her cheeks crimsoned in spite of herself.