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sessed the power of com-mu-ni-ca-ting their re-sentment and their wish-es to their friends, with-out whose aid they could not thus have a-venged the in-ju-ry they had sus-tained.-Jesse.

LESSON LXIII.—THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.

There is a Reap-er whose name is Death;

And with his sic-kle keen,

He reaps the beard-ed grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

"Shall I have nought that is fair?" saith he;
"Have nought but the beard-ed grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back a-gain."

He gazed at the flowers with tear-ful eyes,
He kissed their droop-ing leaves;

It was for the Lord of Par-a-dise

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He bound them in his sheaves.

My Lord hath need of these flower-ets gay,"

The Reap-er said, and smiled.

"Dear to-kens of the earth are they,

Where He was once a child.

"They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Trans-plant-ed by my care;

And saints up-on their gar-ments white
These sa-cred blos-soms wear."

And the moth-er gave in tears and pain
The flowers she most did love;

She knew she should find them all a-gain
In the fields of light a-bove.

Oh! not in cru-el-ty, not in wrath,

The Reap-er came that day;

"Twas an an-gel vis-it-ed the green earth,
And took the flowers a-way.-Longfellow.

LESSON

LXIV.-SOUTH-SEA ISLANDER AND SPEAKING

CHIP.

The fol-low-ing in-ci-dent, re-la-ted by Mr. Wil-liams, will give a stri-king i-dea of the feel-ings of an un-taught peo-ple, when ob-serv-ing for the first time the effects of writ-ten com-mu-ni-ca-tion. "As I had come to work one morn-ing with-out my square, I took up a chip, and with a piece of char-coal wrote up-on it a re-quest that Mrs. Wil-liams would send me that ar-ti-cle. I called a chief who was su-per-in-tend-ing his por-tion of the work, and said to him, Friend, take this; go to our house, and give it to Mrs. Wil-liams.' He was

a sin-gu-lar look-ing man, and had been a great war-ri-or; but, in one of the nu-mer-ous bat-tles he had fought, had lost an eye, and giv-ing me an in-ex-press-i-ble look with the oth-er, he said, 'Take that! she will call me fool-ish and scold me, if I car-ry a chip to her.' 'No,' I re-plied, she will not; take it and go im-me-di-ate-ly; I am in haste.' Per-ceiv-ing me to be in ear-nest, he took it, and asked, 'What must I say ?' I re-plied, 'You have noth-ing to say; the chip will say all I wish.' With a look of as-ton-ish-ment and con-tempt he held up the piece of wood, and said, 'How can this speak? Has this a mouth?' I de-sired him to take it im-me-di-ate-ly, and not spend so much time in talk-ing a-bout it. On ar-ri-ving at the house, he gave the chip to Mrs. Wil-liams, who read it, threw it away, and went to the tool-chest, whith-er the chief, re-solv-ing to see the re-sult of this

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mys-te-ri-ous pro-ceed-ing, fol-lowed her close-ly. On re-ceiv-ing the square from her, he said, 'Stay, daugh-ter how do you know that this is what Mr. Wil-liams wants?' 'Why,' she re-plied, did you not bring me a chip just now?' 'Yes,' said the as-ton-ished warri-or, but I did not hear it say an-y-thing.' 'If you did not, I did,' was the re-ply, 'for it made known to me what he want-ed, and all you have to do is to re-turn with it as quick-ly as pos-si-ble.' With this the chief leaped out of the house; and catch-ing up the mys-teri-ous piece of wood he ran through the set-tle-ment with the chip in one hand and the square in the oth-er, hold-ing them up as high as his arms would reach, and shout-ing as he went, 'See the wis-dom of these Eng-lish peo-ple; they can make chips talk, they can make chips talk!' On giv-ing me the square, he wished to know how it was pos-si-ble thus to con-verse with per-sons at a dis-tance. I gave him all the ex-pla-na-tion in my power; but it was a cir-cum-stance in-volv-ed in so much myster-y, that he ac-tu-al-ly tied a string to the chip, hung it round his neck, and wore it for some time, Du-ring sev-er-al fol-low-ing days we fre-quent-ly saw him surround-ed by a crowd, who were lis-ten-ing with in-tense in-ter-est, while he nar-ra-ted the won-ders which this chip had per-formed."-Williams's "Missionary Enterprises."

LESSON LXV.-THE GOODNESS OF GOD.

The same hand that wrote the texts in the Bi-ble, paint-ed the lil-y. God has paint-ed the skies, and made the stars to flash and spar-kle, and turned the clouds of the morn-ing and the eve-ning in-to pal-a-ces of gold, or rolled them up like great float-ing moun-tains of sil-ver. He does not glue the clouds to the sky, nor hang them

up there like great sheets of lead, nor spread them out like lakes of ink, but He rolls them from one beau-ti-ful form in-to an-oth-er. He folds the heav-ens in fes-toons, and hangs the rain-bow o-ver the earth like a great wreath of flowers. He paints the grass on which you tread, the deep-est green; and in the sum-mer morning, when the world sits si-lent, as if wait-ing for a choir of an-gels to lift up their voi-ces and praise Him, or when the great red sun goes down at night, like a joy-ous child go-ing to his pil-low, how beau-ti-ful it is! What a look the sun throws back when he turns the lake in-to a great ba-sin of gold!

And the spring! When the win-ter goes a-way, what a res-ur-rec-tion! The riv-er bursts from the chains of ice that held it so fast; the lit-tle seed that lay freezing in the ground be-gins to sprout; the lit-tle bird whose notes seem to trem-ble for joy, the small in-sect that leaps up and ut-ters his hum of glad-ness, the moun-tains with their thin veil of blue o-ver their fa-ces, the buds that swell and burst, and the very trees that seem to clap their hands for joy-all preach a-bout God!

We must, my dear chil-
Oh! He might have

"Con-sid-er the lil-ies!" dren, stud-y the works of God. made the grass to be col-oured like the mud in the street; the trees to shoot up their branch-es like i-ron wire, with-out a green leaf to cov-er them; the morn-ing sky to be black, like the pall on a cof-fin; and He might have made ev-er-y beast to howl in pain, and ev-er-y bird to shriek in notes of ag-o-ny, and ev-er-y bush to bris-tle with thorns, and ev-er-y flow-er to hang its head in a sick-ly yel-low, with a fra-grance like that of an old grave; and the spark-ling brooks might have been made to

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lie still and dead; but in-stead of that He has made the flowers to smile on us,-has hung, as it were, a whole flower gar-den lift-ed up on a sin-gle ap-ple-tree; and has clothed the pear, the peach, and the cher-ry trees in beau-ti-ful flowers, like a queen's robe thrown o-ver each tree. The fields of grain send a-broad their per-fume. The very po-ta-to has a charm-ing flow-er. All these hath God made, not to be eat-en or drunk, or burned up, but to make our hearts glad and our eyes de-light-ed. Con-sid-er the flow-ers.-Todd.

LESSON LXVI.-A LOVER OF JUSTICE.

"I won-der," said a spar-row, "what the ea-gles are a-bout, that they don't fly a-way with the cats. And now I think of it, a civ-il ques-tion can-not give of-fence." So the spar-row fin-ished her break-fast, went to the ea-gle, and said :—

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May it please your roy-al-ty, I see you and your roy-al race fly a-way with the kids and the lambs that do no harm; but there is not a crea-ture so ma-lig-nant as a cat. She prowls a-bout our nests, eats up our young, bites off our own heads. She feeds so dain-ti-ly that she must be her-self good eat-ing. She is light-er to car-ry than a kid, and you would get a fa-mous grip in her loose fur. Why do you not feed up-on cat?"

"Ah," said the ea-gle, "there is sense in your ques-tion! I had the worm, too, here this morn-ing, ask-ing me why I did not break-fast up-on spar-row. Do I see a mor-sel of worm's skin on your beak, my child ?"

The spar-row cleaned his bill up-on his bo-som, and said, "I should like to see the worm who came to you with that in-qui-ry." "Stand for-ward, worm," the

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