THE BUTTERFLY IN THE CHURCH.

"Let him fly on, whether it be in the little church house, or in the great temple of the universe, for he too preaches."

TO PHILOSOPHERS.

"Which is the greater? He who raising himself above the stormy times, looks down upon them calmly from his elevation, or he who leaving his native heights, boldly plunges into the fierce battle struggle? It is sublime when the eagle soars through the thunderstorm into the cheerful heaven beyond, but it is more sublime, when he hovering in the pure blue, plunges through the raging storm on to the rocky crag, where rest his unprotected and trembling young."

THE CHILD WITH THE CRUTCH.

Joyfully the child hops round on his crutch; and sadly the old man drags himself along on his. What makes the difference between the two children? Hope and memory."

THE SUN OF SCIENCE.

"What influence does this sun exert over the cold men of fashion and of the world? The same that the material sun effects on the icebergs; it can make them shine like burnished gold, but cannot melt them, and they float down into the seas of warmer climes."

WE CHILDREN.

"A child was carrying a branch covered with flowers,

and wished to plant it in the earth, that the sweet blossoms might ripen to sweeter fruit. Suddenly there settled upon it a swarm of young bees, and the terrified child threw it from him, bitterly deploring the fruit he had promised himself. Thus we children often treat providence."

PRINCES AND PEOPLES.

"When princes weep, peoples bleed: if the mountain tops are enshrouded in mist, it rains in the valley. Now at last, thank God, the German throne heights are cloudless, and stand out fair and clear, as pointers of a bright future to their common fatherland. But oh, princes, consider that eyes are easier to dry than wounds, and the mountain tops than the valley."

HERDER AND SCHILLER.

"Both in youth intended to become surgeons, but destiny said, 'No, there are deeper wounds than those of the body; heal the deeper ones,' and they both wrote."

THE RIDDLE OF THE UNIVERSE.

"Man sees the spinning wheel of destiny, but not the thread; therefore, says he, behold the eternal empty round of the universe."

THE REPEATED PROMISE OF AMENDMENT.

"Heinrich was a youth of fifteen summers, full of good resolutions that he seldom kept, and faults that he daily repented. He loved his father and teacher much, but his amusements more; for either of these he would have willingly offered his life, but would

not bend his will. From this cause the Count, his father, dreaded the time when Heinrich would leave home for college and his travels, where the crooked paths of vice become more flowery and precipitous, and no father's arm can restrain, no father's voice call back. He feared lest he should then sink from weakness to weakness, and return with a soul sullied and polluted; with all its purity and beauty gone, and having lost even that reflection of virtue, repentance. The Count was tender, mild and pious, but over indulgent. The vault where rested his spouse, stood as it were under his every footstep and underlaid each bed, from which he would fain have gathered flowers. It was his birthday, and perhaps from this reason he was ill, for the wounded breast could not bear a day, when the heart beat stronger against it. As he grew weaker and weaker, his agonised son went into the little gravc-yard, where stood the tomb of his mother, and one as yet untenanted, which his father in his sorrow had erected for himself. Here upon his mother's grave, Heinrich solemnly vowed to wage war with his passions and follies. The birthday of his father seemed to say to him, The frail clay that retains thy father and separates him from the dust of thy mother, will scon crumble away, perhaps in a very few days, and he will go grieved and hopeless to thy mother, and he will not be able to tell her that thou art reformed.' And he wept aloud, but oh, unhappy Heinrich, what avail are thy sorrow and tears, without thy amendment. After a short time the Count partially recovered, and in the overflow of joyful emotion and hope, he pressed the repentant boy to his fevered

breast. Heinrich was excited with joy at his father's recovery and embrace; his tutor, who endeavoured by proportioned severity to make up for the father's leniency, tried to set bounds to his intemperate pleasure. Heinrich was disobedient, and when the tutor reiterated his commands, he rebelled and wounded the feelings of his stern friend deeply. This disturbance with his teacher struck the already weary and stricken heart of the hoping father, like a poisoned dart, and he succumbed to the wound and had to take again to his sick bed. Thoughtlessly man strews around him the flaming coals of his sins, and often only when lying in his grave, do the scattered sparks burst forth into flames, whose smoke forms a column of shame over his tomb, that rests for ever upon it. Heinrich, when all hopes of recovery were over, could not look upon the shattered form of his father, without remorse. Silently on his knees like an eye-bound malefactor, he awaited in the next room, the future and the fearful words he is dead!' At length, he went in to the dying man to take a last farewell and receive his forgiveness; but the father though he gave his love, withheld his confidence, saying, 'My son, amend, but do not promise it.' As Heinrich lay in the ante-chamber, overwhelmed with grief and shame, he heard his aged tutor blessing his father, who had also been his pupil, as if already the shades of the last night were gathering round the sick man's life. Slumber softly,' said he, thou virtuous man, thou faithful scholar; all the good resolutions that thou hast kept, all thy victories over self, all thy good deeds, will now appear as crimson evening clouds in the twilight

of thy setting sun. Hope on in thy Heinrich and trust that he may still reform.' The sick man could not shake off his overwhelming faintness, his wandering senses mistook the voice of the tutor for that of his son, and he stammered out, Heinrich, I cannot see thee, but I hear thee; lay thy hand upon my heart and swear that thou will amend.' Heinrich sprang into the room, bnt the tutor putting his hand on the dying man's breast, said gently, 'I will swear in thy name.' But as he did so, he felt that the heart had ceased its motion and was resting from the long labour of life, Fly, unhappy one' he cried, 'he has died without hope.' Heinrich fled out of the castle, after promising his teacher to return. Tottering, and weeping aloud, he sought the graveyard, where the tombs like pale skeletons rose amid the green foliage. He had not the courage to touch the empty future resting place of his father; but he leaned against the second column, where lay a heart that had not perished through his guilt, his mother's. -Silent, gloomy, and oppressed, he bore his sorrow further; everywhere he met that which reminded him of his loss and of his guilt. The thought of his undutiful conduct haunted and pursued him. After five gloomy days full of remorse and pain, Heinrich resolved to return to the friend of his father, and console him by the first fruits of his amendment. At night, he entered timidly the house of mourning. As he passed through the grave-yard, the white pyramid over his father's tomb stood awe-inspiring to his soul among the living green of the foliage, as the smoke cloud of a conflagration floats in the pure blue ether of heaven. He leaned his head against