5. And Bethany's palm-trees in beauty still throw
Their shadows at noon on the ruins below;
But where are the sisters who hastened to greet
The lowly Redeemer, and sit at his feet?

I tread where the TWELVE in their way-faring trod;
I stand where they stood with the CHOSEN of God;

Where his blessing was heard, and his lessons were taught; Where the blind were restored, and the healing was wrought.

6. Oh! here with his flock the sad Wanderer came;

These hills he toiled over, in grief, are the same—
The founts where he drank by the way-side still flow,
And the same airs are blowing which breathed on his brow.
And throned on her hills sits Jerusalem yet,

But with dust on her forehead and chains on her feet;
For the crown of her pride to the mocker hath gone,
And the holy Shechinah is dark where it shone!

7. But wherefore this dream of the earthly abode
Of Humanity clothed in the brightness of God!
Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim,
It could gaze, even now, on the presence of Him!
Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when
In love and in meekness he moved among men ;

And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea,
In the hush of my spirit, would whisper to me.

8. And what if my feet may not tread where He stood,
Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee's flood,
Nor my eyes see the cross which He bowed him to bear,
Nor my knees press
Gethsemane's garden of prayer?
Yet, Loved of the Father, thy spirit is near

To the meek, and the lowly, and penitent here;
And the voice of thy love is the same, even now,

As at Bethany's tomb, or on Olivet's brow.

Oh, the outward hath gone! -but, in glory and power,
The SPIRIT Surviveth the things of an hour;

Unchanged, undecaying, its Pentecost flame

On the heart's secret altar is burning the same!

CHAPTER LXXVII.

PUTNAM'S BIRD-NESTING.

1. In common with most boys, in the same situation in life, Putnam found great amusement in " 'bird-nesting." Like many other boys, too, whose experience has not been written, he found it a very hazardous sport, having nearly lost his life in one of his hair-brained attempts to perpetrate this species of heartless piracy. It was customary on these occasions for several boys to go out in company; but Putnam was always the leader of the band.

2. In the case referred to, they had discovered a fine nest, lodged on a frail branch near the top of a very high tree. The tree stood apart from others, and was difficult to climb. The nest was so far out of the way that it could not be reached with a pole, or any other contrivance which they could command. The only possible way, therefore, to secure the prize, was for some one to venture upon one of those frail branches, neither of which, in the opinion of all the party, was suf ficient to sustain the weight of any one of their number.

3. Putnam regarded the nest and the limb in silence for some minutes. At length he said:

"That bird has some of the qualities of a good soldier; she has selected her post with excellent judgment, and fortified it with great skill. I'll wager there is not a boy within ten miles that can reach that nest."

4. No one was disposed to accept the implied challenge. They were about quitting the spot, in quest of some more practicable sport, when Putnam, deliberately taking off his jacket, and rolling up his pantaloons to his knees, said,"There's nothing like trying!" and proceeded to climb the

tree.

5. His companions used their utmost eloquence to dissuade him from the mad attempt, but all to no purpose. He never

flinched from any undertaking when he had once made up his mind to it. The tree was ascended, and the limb gained, nearest to that which held the nest. It seemed stouter than the others. The daring boy placed his foot on it, by way of trial. It creaked ominously; while the mother-bird, with a shrill cry, abandoned her nest, hovering anxiously around, and uttering many a touching complaint.

6. Stepping boldly out upon the limb, it bent under him. The boys below warned him of his danger, and entreated him not to venture any further. Getting down upon one knee, he reached towards the nest, but before he could grasp it the limb cracked. His comrades shouted to him to come down, but he still persevered. His fingers touched the wished-for prize. In his eagerness he cried, "I've got it-it is mine!"

7. At that instant the limb broke quite off, and Putnam fell-but not to the ground. His fall was arrested by one of the lower branches of the tree, which caught in his pantaloons, and held him suspended in mid-air, with his head downward.

"Put., are you hurt?" inquired one of the boys.

"Not hurt," answered the undaunted heart, "but sorely puzzled how to get down."

"We cannot cut away the limb for you, because we have no knife."

"You must contrive some other way to relieve me then, for I cannot stay here till you get one."

'We will strike a light, and burn the tree down."

'Ay, and smother me in the smoke;-that will not do." 8. There was a boy named Randall in the group, who was noted for being a crack marksman, and who afterwards fought bravely at Putnam's side. Fortunately, he seldom went out without his rifle, and had it with him on this occasion. "Jim Randall," said he, "there's a ball in your rifle." "Yes."

"Do you see that small limb that holds me here?" "I do."

"Fire at it!"

"What! to cut you down?"

"Of course; for what else could I ask it?" "But I might hit your head, perhaps."

"Shoot!-better blow out my brains at once, than see me die here by hanging, which I shall certainly do in fifteen minutes. Shoot!"

"But you will fall."

"Jim Randall, will you fire ?"

9. Randall brought his rifle to his shoulderits sharp crack rang through the forest—the splinters flew, and Putnam fell to the ground. He was severely bruised by the fall; he laughed it off, however, and nothing more was thought of it.

10. Not many days after, Putnam-who could never endure the thought of being defeated in an enterprisereturned alone to that tree, and succeeded, though with the greatest difficulty, in securing the nest, which he bore away in triumph to his companions.

"The three sweetest words in the English language are—1

e-Mother, Home,

The first fond word our hearts express,

In childhood's rosy hours

When life seems full of happiness,

As nature is of flowers;

A word that manhood loves to speak,
When time has placed upon his cheek,
And written on his brow,

The end of all a mother's prayers

The Home of all her dreams;
The guiding star to light our path

With hope's encheering beams!
The haven for our storm-tossed bark,
From out a world where, wild and dark,
The tempests often rise!

But still, in every darksome hour,

This hope will rise with holy power,

And point us to the skies,

Where Mother, Home, and Heaven are seen,

Without a cloud to intervene.

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