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""Tis here, my child, that sister lies,
Deep buried in the ground:
No light comes to her little eyes,
And she can hear no sound."

"Mamma, why can't we take her up,
And put her in my bed?
I'll feed her from my little cup,

And then she won't be dead.

"For sister'll be afraid to lie
In this dark grave to-night,
And she'll be very cold, and cry,
Because there is no light."

"No, sister is not cold, my child; For God, who saw her die,

As he looked down from heaven and smileci, Recalled her to the sky.

"And then her spirit quickly fled

To God, by whom 'twas given;

Her body in the ground is dead,
But sister lives in heaven."

"Mamma, won't she be hungry there,
And want some bread to eat?
And who will give her clothes to wear
And keep them clean and neat?

"Papa' must go and carry some;
I'll send her all I've got;
And he must bring sweet sister home,
Mamma, now must he not?"

"No, my dear child, that cannot be ;
But, if you're good and true,
You'll one day go to her; but she
Can never come to you.

"Let little children come to me,'
Once our good Saviour said,
And in his arms she'll always be,
And God will give her bread."

LESSON LXX.

Life and Death.-NEW MONTHLY Magazine.

O FEAR not thou to die!

But rather fear to live; for life
Has thousand snares thy feet to try,
By peril, pain, and strife.
Brief is the work of death;

But life!-the spirit shrinks to see
How full, ere heaven recalls the breath,
The cup of wo may be.

O fear not thou to die!

No more to suffer or to sin;

No snares without, thy faith to try,

No traitor heart within:

But fear, O! rather fear,

The gay, the light, the changeful scene, The flattering smiles that greet thee here, From heaven thy heart to wean.

Fear, lest, in evil hour,

Thy pure and holy hope o'ercome,
By clouds that in the horizon lower,—
Thy spirit feel that gloom,
Which, over earth and heaven,

The covering throws of fell despair;
And deems itself the unforgiven,
Predestined child of care.

O fear not thou to die!

To die, and be that blessed one, Who, in the bright and beauteous sky, May feel his conflict done

May feel that, never more,

The tear of grief or shame shall come, For thousand wanderings from the Power Who loved, and called him home!

12

LESSON LXXI.

The Burial of Arnold.*—N. P. WILLIS.

YE'VE gathered to your place of prayer,
With slow and measured tread :

Your ranks are full, your mates all there—
But the soul of one has fled.

He was the proudest in his strength,
The manliest of ye all;
Why lies he at that fearful length,
And ye around his pall?

Ye reckon it in days, since he

Strode up that foot-worn aisle,
With his dark eye flashing gloriously,
And his lip wreathed with a smile.
O, had it been but told you then,
To mark whose lamp was dim,
From out you rank of fresh-lipped men,
Would ye have singled him?

Whose was the sinewy arm, which flung
Defiance to the ring?

Whose laugh of victory loudest rung,
Yet not for glorying?

Whose heart, in generous deed and thought,
No rivalry might brook,
And yet distinction claiming not?
There lies he-go and look!

On now-his requiem is done,
The last deep prayer is said-
On to his burial, comrades-on,
With the noblest of the dead!
Slow-for it presses heavily-
It is a man ye bear!

Slow, for our thoughts dwell wearily
On the noble sleeper there.

Tread lightly, comrades!—we have laid
His dark locks on his brow-

* A member of the senior class in Yale College.

Like life-save deeper light and shade :-
We'll not disturb them now.
Tread lightly-for 'tis beautiful,
That blue veined eye-lid's sleep,
Hiding the eye death left so dull
Its slumber we will keep.

Rest now!-his journeying is done-
Your feet are on his sod-
Death's chain is on your champion-
He waiteth here his God!
Ay-turn and weep-'tis manliness
To be heart-broken here-
For the grave of earth's best nobleness
Is watered by the tear.

LESSON LXXII.

Cruelty to Animals reproved.-MAVOR.

A YOUNGSTER, whose name we shall conceal, because it is not for his credit it should be known, was amusing himself with a beetle stuck on a pin, and seemed vastly delighted with the gyrations* it made, occasioned by the torture it felt. Harley saw this with emotion; for he would not wantonly have injured the most contemptible animal that breathes. He rebuked the unfeeling youth in the following terms; and the impression, which the lecture made, was never after effaced from his mind : "I am deeply concerned," said he, "to observe any one, whom I so tenderly love, fond of cruel sport. Do you think that the poor beetle, which you are thus agonizing, is incapable of sensation? And if you are aware that it feels pain as well as you, how can you receive amusement from its torture? Animals, it is true, were formed for the use of man; but reason and humanity forbid us to abuse them.

"Every creature, not immediately noxious to our kind, ought to be cherished, or, at least, not injured. The heart of sensibility bleeds for misery wherever it is seen. No amusement can be rational that is founded on another's pain. I know you take delight in bird-nesting: I wish to discourage this pursuit, too.

* g sounded like j.

"Consider how little you gain, and how much distress you occasion to some of the most beautiful and lovely of creation's tribes. You destroy the eggs, from which the fond bird hoped to rear an offspring; or, what is still more cruel, you rob her of her young, when maternal care and affection are at the highest pitch. Could you possibly conceive what the parent bird must suffer from this deprivation, you would be ashamed of your insensibility.

"The nightingale, robbed of her tender young, is said to sing most sweetly; but it is the plaintive voice of lacerated nature, not the note of joy. It should be heard as the expression of distress; and, if you are the cause of it, you ought to apply it to yourself.

"O then, ye friends of love, and love-taught song,
Spare the soft tribes! this barbarous art forbear
If on your bosom innocence can win,

Music engage, or piety persuade !'

"Even the meanest insects receive an existence from the Author of our being; and why should you abridge their span? They have their little sphere of bliss allotted them; they have purposes, which they are destined to fulfil; and, when these are accomplished, they die. Thus it is with you! You have, indeed, a more extensive range of action, more various and important duties to discharge; and well will it be for you if you discharge them aright.

"But think not, because you have reason and superiority given you, that irrational animals are beneath your regard. In proportion as you enjoy the benefits they are adapted to confer, you should be careful to treat them with tenderness and humanity it is the only return you can make. Remember, every thing that has life is doomed to suffer and to feel, though its expression of pain may not be capable of being conveyed to your ears.

"To the most worthless reptile, to the most noxious animal, some pity is due. If its life is dangerous to you, it may be destroyed without blame; but let it be done without cruelty. To torture is unmanly; to tyrannise, where there can be no resistance, is the extreme of baseness.

"I never knew an amiable person, who did not feel an attachment for animals. A boy who is not fond of his bird, his rabbit, his dog, or his horse, or whatever other creature he takes under his protection, will never have a good heart, and will always be wanting in affection to his own kind.

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