iii. 2).

the graves after his resurrection, and

THE GLOVE: A TALE. went into the Holy City, and appeared

Before his lion-court, unto many.'

To see the grisly sport,

Sat the king; That chapter of Ezekiel wherein we

Beside him group'd his princely peers, read, 'And He said unto me, Son of And dames aloft, in circling tiers man, can these bones live ? and I an

Wreath'd round their blooming ring. swered, O Lord God thou knowest' King Francis, where he sat, (Ezekiel xxxvii. 3), recurred to my mind.

Raised a finger; yawı'd the gate,

And slow, from his repose, Nor could I help recalling these striking

A liox goes! words; 'I will also gather all nations, Dumbly hc gazed around and will bring them down into the Valley The foc-cncircled ground; of Jehoshaphat, and I will plead with

And, with a lazy gapo, them for my people, and for my heritage

He stretch'd his lordly shape,

And shook his careless mano, Israel, whom they have scattered among

And-laid him down again. the nations, and parted my land’ (Joel

A finger raiscd the king,

And nimbly have the guard To our right was a tomb where Absalom A second gato unbarr'd; is said to have been interred.* I ob

Forth, with a rushing spring. served, as I passed, a great quantity of

A TIGER sprung!

Wildly the wild one yell’d, stones heaped up against it. On inquiry, When the lion ho beheld; I heard it was usual for all who passed the

And, bristling at the look, tomb to throw a stone at it. The valley With his tail his sides he strook, here is wild and pretty; there are many

And roll'd his rabid tongue, olive-trees. The tombs of St James and

In many a wary ring

He swept round the forest-king. Zachariah are not far distant from that

With a fell and rattling sound, of Absalom.

And laid him on the ground, The next interesting object is the

Grommelling. Fountain of the Virgin. We then arrive

The king raised his finger• then at the Pool of Siloam: this is a very pic

Lcapt two LEOPARDS from the den

With a bound; turesque spot. The walls on each side

And boldly bounded thcy are nearly Fidden by plants, creepers, and Where the crouching tiger lay, trailing leaves and flowers. The village

Terrible! of Siloam is situated on a height oppo- And ho griped the beasts in his deadly hold, site the pool, overlooking the Valley of

In the grim embro.cc they grappled and roll'd;

Rosc thc lion with a roar, Jehoshaphat. In Nehemiah iii. 15, and

And stood the strifo beforc; in John ix. 7, this pool is mentioned.

And the wild-cats on the spot, We next saw the Fountain of En-rogel, From the blood-thirst, wroth and hot, where, it will be remembered, Adonijah,

Halted still. after he had proclaimed himself king,

Now from the balcony abovo

A snowy hand lct fall a glove: slew sheep, and oxen, and fat cattle'

Midway between the boasts of prey, (1 Kings i. 9).

Lion and tiger-thcrc it lay, The Field of Blood is on a hill above

The winsome lady's glovc! the Valley of Hinnom. It was formerly Fair Cunigonde said, with a lip of

scorn, usual to throw the bodies of pilgrims who To the knight Delorges, 'If thc lovo you baro died at Jerusalem into a pit, which is

Were as gallant and Ical as you boast it to be, still seen on the field of Blood.

I might ask you to bring back that glove to me!" Continuing our excursions through the The knight left the place where the lady sat; Valley of Hinnom, we passed the lower The knight he has pass'd through the fearful Pool of Gihon, the Jaffa Gate on the west, gate; then the Damascus Gate on the north

The lion and tiger he stoop'd above, side of the walls. To our left was the

And his fingers have closed on the lady's glore!

All shuddering and stunnid they bcheld him way to the Grotto of Jeremiah; further there en we passed Herod's Gate (now walled The noble knights, and the ladics fair; up), and turning round to the eastern But loud was the joy and the praiscs thc while wall

, found ourselves again at the spot He bore back the glove, with his tranquil smile! from whence we had started, having With a tender look in her softening cyes, made a complete tour of the city.

That promised reward to his warmest sighs,

Fair Cunigonde rose her knight to grace; * He was, we are told, buried in a large He toss'd the glove in the lady's faec ! pit in the Word of Ephraim, and stones 'Nay, spare me the guerdon, at least,' quoth bo, heaped upon bim.

And he left for ever that fair ladye!



'Innumerous songsters in the freshening

shade When the first soft days of spring come Of new-sprung leaves their modulations on in all their gentle sweetness, and woo mix us with their warmth, and soothe us with

Mellifluous.' their smile, then come the birds. With such music! It seems the pure outus do they rejoice that winter's reign (and pourings of the greatest gratitude to Him snow) is ended. No one of the seasons, who made the norn so beautiful, so full that come 'to rule the varied year,' abdicates his throne more to his subjects' most perfect praise, in ecstasy of song.

of joy and light. It is the expression of joy than winter. While he rules, we lose Yes, indeed, we love birds ! all respect for the mercury in our thermometer. When we remember how high

There is a deal of pleasure, as well as it stood in our estimation only a few profit and advantage with amusement, to

be derived from studying the habits and short months ago, we did not think that it could get so low. We resolve to have the character of birds. Nor is the study

burdensome. Of all the lower orders of nothing more to do with it; for 'there is creation, as they frequent most freely the a point beyond which forbearance ceases to be a virtue, and we conceive that haunts and homes of men, so they appoint to be thirty-two degrees above zero, have their labours and amusements, their

proach us nearest in intelligence. They at the very least.

And yet, perhaps, we look upon this conjugal relations, and, like us, they build season of the year too coldly.

with taste and skill their houses: they

It has its joys. The cold without drives us to seek In very many things they are our equals,

have society, moreover, and the opera. within the pleasant fireside. And then and in some superiors: and what in other the snow, so beautiful!—falling down so soft, and with soft down covering the face animals at best is only instinct, in birds

is almost reason. of earth. Then, too, the perfect luxury in winter of lying late in bed. To be sure, those pleasant little people, the marten

Among the first spring visiters are Thomson indignantly exclaims (and it is and the wren. They appear to have parsaid he wrote this very line in bed),

ticular confidence in man. Nor is their 'Falsely luxurious, will not man awake!'

confidence misplaced; for everybody hails Why, of course he will! But if he is a with joy these harbingers of spring. Their sensible man, he will lie awake awhile, company is peculiarly agreeable, and they and think the matter over, ere he rises. seem to know it; for every year they come It is pleasant to lie and imagine how cold again to occupy their old abodes, where you will be when you do get up, and they live rent-free; yet not exactly so, know how warm you are just now. There for they pay us with their notes. Someis much of pleasure also in lying looking times the martens have a deal of diffiat the wondrous pictures painted on the culty among themselves about these hawindows. There are clouds and castles, bitations. The young members of last trees and towers, forms and features, most year's families now open house on their fanciful and beautiful. Formed from our own account, and disliking newly-plasbreath, they seem our sleeping thoughts tered walls, a vigorous scramble is made and dreams, breathed cut and photo- for old tonements. After much scolding, graphed. Certainly Jack Frost is a most wheming, and twitting upon facts, the painstaking painter.

senior members of the district assemble But surely enough, when spring and in solemn conclave, and the juniors are summer, with their greater joys, are come, initiated in the mysteries of meum and then it will pay to rise right early. It tuum. The wrens content themselves will even do to take a long walk before with some snug corner, where they forthbreakfast. The air is pregnant with the with proceed to build their houses, with perfect perfume of a thousand flowers, all the architectural skill derived from and leaves, and buds. And then, beside their great namesake, the builder of St the pleasure of seeing jocund day go Paul's. There is a spice of waggery about through that difficult gymnastic feat de- the wren, somewhat amusing. Often scribed by Shakspere, of standing 'tiptoe when a neighbour has left bis house, and on the misty mountain-tops,' we have a gone to market, or down town, the wren glorious morning concert, to which we peeps in, and finding no one there, prohave a season-ticket: for

ceeds to amuse himself by pulling out tho straws and feathers in the nest; but is indeed a golden day, in which mere should perchance the said neighbour come living is a perfect luxury. From the in sight, the wren remembers there is eagle perched upon the topmost cliff, something very interesting going on nearest the sky, down to the smallest inaround the corner, that demands his in- sect that floats upon the air, all the stant and immediate attention.

created world to-day rejoices in the sun. The marten and the wren, together Oh! it is such days as these—so balmy, with the swallows (barn and chimney) bright, and beautiful—that bring upon and 'the honest robin,' who, as quaint their wings strength to our weak and old Walton has it, 'loves mankind, both weary bodies, and to our souls sweet alive and dead,' are half-domesticated. hope !' They love to live near man. The robin Caw! caw! caw!' The watchword is the only one among them who appears and the signal of alarm or caution among to have paid much attention to the cul- crows; or else it is the 'dreadful note of tivation of his vocal powers. He salutes preparation, summoning the lawless lethe morning with sweet songs. The wren gions from the depths of the woods, from and other small birds are in the garden, yonder hill, from the crowner's' inquest, breakfasting on worms, or, as we some sitting on the body of a defunct steed, times express it, 'getting their grub.' | down by the river side, fronı far-off forests,

'he marten, meanwhile, listens as a cri- to come and help pull up a field of corn, tic; for he sits up in his private box, just beginning to put forth its tender now and then uttering an approving note, blades. All these and more come flockas if of applause. Indeed the marten is ing,' for there is no one around: the scarenot very musical. Sometimes, in the crow was blown down last night; the gun bosom of his family, when he feels very is lent; the boys have gone to school; the social, he takes up his pipe, and then farmer tumbled off the hay-mow yesteressays a song. But he never gets beyond day and broke his leg: and so the crows the first few notes of 'Hi Betty Martin,' ) proceed with the destruction, and then goes off on tiptoe.

'Unmoved But here we have a jolly little fellow, with dread of death to flight or foul retreat.' who makes up in sociability for what he lacks in song. The house-sparrow comes The crow and blackbird both are arto our very doors. He hops along the rant scoundrels. The last, indeed, renstreet, gathering 'crumbs of comfort' and ders somewhat of service in the early part of bread. He keeps a careful eye, how- of spring; for, following the furrows of ever, on the cat; for he is perfectly aware the field, devouring countless worms and that she would consider him only a swal- grubs, which would be most destructive low, and he does not like to lose his iden- to the coming crop of corn, all day long tity. There is in history a single instance he gleans behind the plough, a perfect where this bird seems to have forgotten little Ruth. But when the corn comes, his character, and been a destroyer. he fills his own crop with the farmer's in Every juvenile of five years, who is at all less than no time. Perchance, should read in the literature of his age, knows any one appear upon the premises, he the tragic story of the death and burial gets upon the fence and whistles very of cock-robin. That interesting indivi- unconcernedly, just as if he hadn't been dual was found one morning lying on the doing anything. As for that bean pole, ground, with a murderous weapon through standing in the centre of the field, dressed his heart, as dead as Julius Cæsar. The in old clothes, and bearing some faint rehorrorstricken birds assembled. A coro- semblance to a returned Californian, ha! ner's inquest was holden. The first in- ha! ha! What fools men are to think quiry was, of course, 'who killed cock- that they can cheat the blackbird. robin ?' There was a momentary silence, Every farmer hates the crow, and, we and then the sparrow, the last one in the must acknowledge, he is not a very lovely crowd, perhaps, to be suspected, confessed bird. He has neither beauty nor song; the deed! He then proceeds to state for his eternal caw! caw! is a note rehow it was done, and owns he did it newed so often as to be at a decided diswith his bow and arrow. This tragic count. Nor has he civility of manners; event niust have happened previous to and his ideas concerning private property Master Sparrow's civilisation.

Yet, of all the But let us go and take a stroll. This bird tribe, he is by far the most intelli

are extremely vague.

gent. Nor is he a hypocrite. He robs

Full of rumination sad, onr fields and he 'acknowledges the corn.'

Laments the weakness of these latter times.' Ah! he is a cunning rascal! There he Early rising is a good thing. It is sits, on that old tree by the roadside, easy enough to rise with the sun, but we clothed in a sable suit, and as you go by, must get up very early indecd if we would looks as demure, as interesting, and me- rise with the birds. For long before the lancholy, as a minister with the bron- sun sees fit to show his face, when the chitis, about to sail for Egypt. But should first faint glimmerings of dawn make rethere be a gun in the bottom of the cart, petition of response to that Almighty though it is covered carefully with a fiat that first called light into the world, bundle of straw, a blanket over that, and while 'incense-breathing morn’is putting a large fat boy sitting on top of all, he on her clothes, while we are still sleeping knows it is there, and, trusty sentinel, such sleep as the truly virtuous only alarms the whole community of crows in know, the birds have left their nests, the region round about, and away they have dipped their wings in the refreshing wing, over the bills and far away.' dew, have breakfasted, and now are waitCaw! caw! caw! You didn't catch him ing for the day. Their matin music that time. He is very well aware that ended, then begin the labours and amuseyou intend to kill himif you can. He ments of the day. They have enough to just wants to see you do it, that's all! do. Perchance they have their house to

Having been completely foiled in every build, and fields, both far and near, are effort to induce the inhabitants of a searched for straws and sticks, and they rookery to accept a hint that I wished to pick up, here a hair, and there a thread, be relieved of their board and lodging— to weave into the nest. Or else they at all events of the former-as a last re- have a family to cater for; or, if the young source I adopted an old expedient. A are fledged, they must be taught to fly, quantity of corn was soaked in spirit, and and learned to find their food: the vascattered in the field. By and by, a dozen grant boys, who rob birds' nests, are pointvagrant crows came down, and stationing ed out, and the old birds devote themselves a 'look-out,' they began to feed. By the to teach the young idea how to-avoid time their crops were full, their heads being shot. Then there are calls to make, were also, and they were literally corned.' | gossip to interchange, rehearsals to attend, Such a spree! They reeled about, ran excursions to adjacent counties: and so into and fell over one another, and ex- | time flies with birds. hibited a series of ground and lofty tum- And when the evening comes, they all blings beautiful to behold. In vain did return from their discursive flights, and one old crow,

the patriarch of the flock, seek their homes. Yes, homes ! For a hundred years of age at least, attempt they all have their 'local habitation, and t reason with the rest. He was the there are no beings more domestic or worst one of them all: and afterward the home-loving than the birds. The croaker old reprobate tried to sing a bacchanalian crow, stuffed to repletion, flies to the fosong. At last, by some mysterious evolu- rest, and, we prophesy, will before morntions, they made out to get up in a tree, ing be obliged to call in the corn-doctor, and there they sat, cawing and abusing or die of indigestion. The swallows come

There was an after-piece; for in countless crowds, a complete cloud, the Shanghais happened to go down that and after describing sundry circles, dive way, and what corn the crows had left, down the chimney, a residence that they speedily appropriated. There was seems to them most suitable. And here a time then! The boys rushed down to are more of them, who, if they neither drive away the Shanghais, but they were sow nor reap, most certainly do 'gather bound not to go home till morning, any into barns,' and in the most astounding how. Altogether, what with the inco- quantities. The remainder of this tribe, herent cawing overhead, the inebriated for there are more of them, improbable as crowing on the ground, occasionally a it may seem, live, an innumerable throng, tumble-down from off the tree, the crows up in that old church-tower that appears trying to roost above, and the roosters above the trees. There they dwell in trying to crow below, there was 'confusion safe security, shielded from the storm, worse confounded.' The next day, our and free from fear of man, or boy, or cat. best Shanghai-cock of the walk-died of Who ever saw a cat about a church? delirium tremens; and his successor, We have indeed heard of a church-mouse,

the corn.

and his extraordinary poverty; but a church-cat is unknown. The bell alone, at times, disturbs the birds; the bell, now ringing soleninly on Sabbath days, summoning the people to the place of prayer, now tolling sadly and sorrowfully for the dead, now making merry marriage music, anon at midnight sounding out the terrible alarm of conflagration; and then the young alone tremble with fear, and nestle closer beneath the mother's brooding wings. The old tower is a pleasant dwelling-place for birds. It is cool with shading trees, and all about the church is quiet, calm, and still. Truly there 'the sparrow hath found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young;' for thus, ages ago, the poet-prophet painted a perfect picture of the peace, the rest, the sacred stillness, and the sweet serenity of the house of God.

I want his hand, his eyes, bis heart,
I want with all besides to part;
I want him as my husband kind,
I want in him my all to find;
I want him as my daily bread,
I want him as my living head;
I want him as my biding-place,
I want him as the God of grace;
I want him as my life and peace,
I want him as my righteousness;
I want his great atoning blood,
I want to bathe in that rich flood
I want his Spirit's voice to hear,
I want the love that casts out fear;
I want him now in Asher's Vale,
I want him when all hell assail;
I want him when my flesh gives way,
I want him as my only stay;
I want his smiles, his looks of grace,
I want to see him face to face;
I want his wisdom, strength, and love,
I want to dwell with him above.


THE CHILDREN OF ZION. I want to feed on Jesus' Word, I want communion with my Lord; I want salvation full and free, I want my Father's face to see; I want to prove each promise sweet, I want to lie at Jesu's feet; I want his mercy every day, I want upholding all the way; I want to live as Jesu's bride, I want in his dear wounds to hide; I want to prove his fulness more, I want his person to adore; I want to hear his heavenly voice, I want in Jesus to rejoice; I want to joy in him by faith, I want to credit all he saith; I want to trust him with my all, I want on his dear name to call; I want to die to all things here, I want on him to cast my care; I want to see his gospel spread, I want on Satan's power to tread; I want to see the proud made sad, , I want to see poor mourners glad; I want to see the hungry fed, I want by Jesus to be led; I want him as my guide and friend, I want him to my journey's end; I want him as my priest and king, I want his precious love to sing; I want him as my rock and tower, I want bim in each trying hour; I want him as my brother dear, I want my Jesus always near;

AN EASTERN STORY* Carazan, the merchant of Bagdad, was eminent throughout all the East for his avarice and wealth. His origin was obscure as that of the spark, which, by the collision of steel and adamant is struck out of darkness; and the patient labour of persevering diligence alone had made him rich. It was remarked, that when he was indigent he was thought to be generous; and he was still acknowledged to be inexorably just. But whether, in his dealings with men, he discovered a perfidy which tempted him to put his trust in gold, or whether, in proportion as he accumulated wealth, he discovered his own importance to increase, Carazan prized it more as he used it less: he gradually lost the inclination to do good, as he acquired the power, and as the hand of time scattered the snow upon his head, the freezing influence extended to his bosom.

But though the door of Carazan was never opened by hospitality, nor his hand by compassion, yet fear led him constantly to the mosque at the stated hours of prayer: he performed all the rites of devotion with the most scrupulous punctuality, and had thrice paid his vows at the temple of the Prophet. That devotion which arises from the love of God,

* Of this story Dr N. Drake remarks, that the misery of utter solitude was never before painted in colours so vivid and terrific.

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