his protecting shield. Edward appeared; his aged grandmother, supported on his arm, to which the occasion had given supernatural strength; he cheered her, he sought to give her courage, unmindful of aught but the sacred charge he was preserving.

Every tongue was silent; the surrounding multitude scarcely dared to breathe, through agitation, dread, and awe. They reached the door; Edward supported her steps across the threshold, when the whole fabric fell in. A shout of joy, a murmur of applause, followed.-Edward was praised and blessed as a little hero; while with a countenance illumined with happiness, he exclaimed," She is safe! dear father; my beloved grandmother is safe!"

I cannot describe the scene that followed; Randal looked around on his children, their mother, and the dear partner of his heart, the venerable and respected author of his days, all, all were safe. "Oh no!" he cried, “merciless flames, 1 will not repine at your devastations; myself and my Edward will work to renew whatever ye may destroy !—and this night, dreadful as it has been, is not without its blessings, since it has proved the real worth of my Edward's heart."

LESSON VII.

CRUELTY TO INSECTS. PERCIVAL.

A CERTAIN youth indulged himself in the cruel entertainment of torturing and killing flies. He tore off their wings and legs, and then watched with pleasure their impotent attempts to escape from him. Sometimes he collected a number of them together, and crushed them at once to death; glorying, like many a celebrated hero, in the devastation he committed. Alexis remonstrated with him in vain on this barbarous conduct. He could not persuade him to believe that flies are capable of pain, and have a right, no less than ourselves, to life, liberty, and enjoyment. The signs of agony, which, when tormented, they express by the quick and various contortions of their bodies, he neither understood nor would attend to. Alexis had a microscope, or glass, for enabling us to see small objects; and he desired his companion one day to examine a most beautiful and surprising animal. Mark,

said he, it is studded from head to tail with black and silver, and its body all over beset with the most curious bristles! The head contains a pair of lively eyes, encircled with silver hairs: and the trunk consists of two parts, which fold over each other. The whole body is ornamented with plumes and decorations, which surpass all the luxuries of dress in the courts of the greatest princes. Pleased and astonished with what he saw, the youth was impatient to know the name and properties of this wonderful animal. It was withdrawn from the magnifier, and, when offered to his naked eye, proved to be a poor fly, which had been the victim of his wanton cruelty.

LESSON VIII

WINTER-GOODRICH.

These are com

DECEMBER has come! Winter is here! mon-place words, but they mean more, perhaps, than we are apt to consider.

Winter, then, means that the myriad leaves of the forest are shriveled and torn from the trees, and scattered in the valley: it means that the sap of the trees has ceased to flow, and that these giants of the vegetable world, have passed into a state of stupor, in which they must remain till spring again

returns.

Winter means that the myriad races of annual weeds and plants are dead, to revive again no more; that myriads of blossoms have faded forever from the view; that the verdure of the forest has passed away; that the gemmed garment of the meadow is exchanged for the thin brown mantle of leanness and poverty; that the velvet of the lawn has given place to the scanty covering of dried and faded grass.

Winter means that the minstrelsy of the birds is gone, and that the field and forest, so lately cheered by a thousand forms and sounds of happy existence, are now silent, or rendered more dreary and desolate by the moaning winds. It means that the birds are gone to their southern retreats; that the myriad races of insects are dead; that the whole generation of butterflies has perished; that the grasshoppers have sung their last song; that even the pensive cricket has gone to his long home. It means that death has breathed on our portion

of the world, and that nature herself, as if weary of her efforts, has fallen into a cold and fearful slumber.

Winter means all these melancholy things; but it also means something more. It means that the granary of the farmer is full; that his barn is supplied; that there is good and ample store for the beasts that look to man for support, and for man himself. It means, too, that the comfortable fire will be kindled, around which the family will assemble, and where, secure from the bitter blast without, there will still be peace, comfort, and content. It means, too, that there is such a thing as poverty, shivering without fire, without food-perhaps, without sufficient shelter; and it means that charity should seek and save those who are suffering in such a condition.

And winter means something more than all this: it means, by its examples of decay and death, to teach us that we, too, must pass away; and that it is well for us to make preparation for the great event. Winter also brings us to the end of the year, and suggests a serious self-inquiry, and self-examination. It would ask us, if the last year has been one of profit or loss? Are we better, and wiser, than when it began? Are we more kind, more just, more patient, more faithful, more fond of truth? Summer is the season for the harvest of the field; winter is the season for the moral harvest of the heart. Let it not pass with any of us, as a barren and unproductive season, in which we neither sow nor reap the fruits of wisdom and peace.

LESSON IX.

APPLICATION.-DODSLEY.

SINCE the days that are past are gone forever, and those hat are to come may not come to thee, it behooveth thee, O man! to employ the present time, without regretting the loss of that which is past, or too much depending on that which is

to come.

This instant is thine; the next is in the keeping of futurity, and thou knowest not what it may bring forth.

Whatsoever thou resolvest to do, do it quickly; defer not till the evening what the morning may accomplish.

Idleness is the parent of want and of pain; but the labor of virtue bringeth forth pleasure.

The hand of diligence defeateth want; prosperity and success are the industrious man's attendants.

Who is he that hath acquired wealth, that hath risen to power, that hath clothed himself with honor, that is spoken of in the city with praise, and that standeth before the king in his counsel ? Even he that hath shut out idleness from his house; and hath said unto sloth, Thou art mine enemy.

He riseth up early and lieth down late; he exerciseth his mind with contemplation, and his body with action; and preserveth the health of both.

The slothful man is a burden to himself; his hours hang heavy on his hand; he loitereth about, and knoweth not what he would do.

His days pass away like the shadow of a cloud; and he leaveth behind him no mark for remembrance.

His body is diseased for want of exercise; he wisheth for action but hath not power to move. His mind is in darkness; his thoughts are confused; he longeth for knowledge, but hath no application. He would eat of the almond, but hateth the trouble of breaking its shell.

His house is in disorder; his servants are wasteful and riotous; and he runneth on towards ruin: he seeth it with his eyes; he heareth it with his ears; he shaketh his head and wisheth, but hath no resolution, till ruin cometh upon him like a whirlwind, and shame and repentance descend with him into the grave.

LESSON X

THE SLOTH AND THE BEAVER.PERCIVAL.

THE Sloth is an animal of South America; and is so illformed for motion, that a few paces are often the journey of a week; and so indisposed to move, that he never changes his place, but when impelled by the severest stings of hunger. He lives upon the leaves, fruit, and flowers of trees, and often on the bark itself, when nothing besides is left for his subsistence. As a large quantity of food is necessary for his support, he generally strips a tree of all its verdure in less than

a fortnight; and, being then destitute of food, he drops down like a lifeless mass, from the branches to the ground. After remaining torpid for some time, from the shock received by the fall, he prepares for a journey to some neighboring tree, to which he crawls with a motion almost imperceptible. At length arrived, he ascends the trunk and devours with famished appetite whatever the branches afford. By consuming the bark, he soon destroys the life of the tree; and thus the source is lost, from which his sustenance is derived. Such is the miserable state of this slothful animal. How different are the comforts and enjoyments of the industrious Beaver! This creature is found in the northern parts of America, and is about two feet long and one foot high. The figure of it somewhat resembles that of a rat. In the months

of June and July, the beavers assemble and form a society, which generally consists of more than two hundred. They always fix their abode by the side of a lake or river; and, in order to make a dead water above and below, they erect, with incredible labor, a dam, or pier, perhaps fourscore or a hundred feet long, and ten or twelve feet thick at the base. When the dike is completed, they build their several apartments, which are divided into three stories. The first is beneath the level of the mole, and is for the most part full of water. The walls of their habitations are perpendicular, and about two feet thick. If any wood project from them, they cut it off with their teeth, which are more serviceable than saws; and by the help of their tails, they plaster all their works, with a kind of mortar, which they prepare of dry grass and clay mixed together. In August or September, they begin to lay up their stores of food; it consists of the wood of the birch, the plane, and of some other trees. Thus they pass the gloomy winter in ease and plenty.-These two American animals, contrasted with each other, afford a most striking picture of the blessings of industry, and the penury and wretchedness of sloth.

LESSON XI.

TRUTH ABOVE ALL THINGS.-AIKIN.

"TRUTH is the highest thing that man can keep," says the good old English poet Geoffry Chaucer; and in all times and