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"Mr.

is noted for his choice wines'. I presume

you tasted his champagne* and lemonade'?"

"I drank two glasses of champagne', and when I was very warm, two or three of lemonade."

"And yet you took nothing to disagree with you'

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No', not in the least."

"Did you dance after this'?"

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Only twice-for I felt fatigued, and had a little of a headache."

"Let me tell you, miss', that your supper and dancing have put you in such a condition', that if you are able in a month to attend another party', you may be thankful.”

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Why', doctor', you needn't say that`; for I saw ladies who ate twice as many things as I did', and twice as much of them."

All other amusements partake of the nature of the two now considered', active' and passive'; these being sufficient to illustrate the principles by which we should be governed in our choice, and in the application of pastimes', it is therefore unnecessary to go into the subject and discuss the merits of each particular amusement. Sedentary amusements, for those who lead inactive lives', are not to be indulged in with impunity'; for those who take much active exercise they are more proper', and the health of such is rarely affected by them.

LESSON LXXX.

THE RAIN-DROP AND THE LILY.

A CLOUD, that had hung like a veil o'er the sun',
Was melted, and came to the earth on the run';
When one of its parts', in a round, sparkling drop,
That coursed down the air', on its way made a stop
To crown a fair Lily, that, lowly and pale,
Was bending to pour out her sweets o'er the valè ;
Because, not another of all the bright shower
Could bathe, in descending', so lovely a flower.

* Sham-pane.

The Lily was shocked by the signal of state.
She shook when it came, and was bent with its weight.
""Tis brilliant and heavy'," she modestly said`,
"And must not be worn by so humble a head.
For me, in my simple and plain robe of white,
To wear a gay coronet courting the sight',
It ill would befit'!" so, she bowed herself down',
And on a green leaf meekly cast off her crown.

"And now," said the Drop'," as it clearly is seen'
The crown was not needed to make thee a queen',
Permit me awhile at thy feet to reposè,-
A few secret things of my life to disclosè;
And then may I sink in the earth, where thy root
Will take mé, and let me return in a shoot',
To hang on thy stem in a beautiful bell',
As pure as the one that I laved when I fell."

The Lily consented. The Drop then began:-
My birth was before the creation of man'!
When darkness was yet on the face of the deep,
I lay in its bosom', an infant asleep.

The Spirit moved over us through the black night';
And when my Creator said', 'Let there be light','
Its first rays awoke me! I sparkled and played',
In praise of the power by whose words we were made.
"And sincé-but 'twould take many lives, such as thiné,
To learn half the change that has since followed minè!
I've run in the stream', I have leapt in the fount';
I've slept in the laké, and have rolled up the mount
In a light curl of mist. I have strengthened the oak',
When o'er its lone head the red thunderbolt broke!
I've sailed in the cloud', and distilled in the dew.
As old as the world', I've a form ever new.

"When earth was submerged, I was under the ark',
Combined with my kindred to bear up the bark.
I've been at the poles. All the zones I have crossed.
I've fled from the fire', and been caught by the frost.
I've plunged in the avalanche'* heaved in the seà;
And ocean's deep things have been open to me.

* Pronounced av-a-lansh;--a large mass of snow, or ice, falling from the side of a mountain. Sometimes a large mass of loosened earth and stones is so called.

The ruins unknown', and the treasures untold',
That lie in her caverns', 't was mine to behold!

"Through groves of rich coral', while winding my way
Where pearls strewed the bed, and the mariner lay',
I bathed his pale lips and his eye's heavy lid',
When all those bright things from its vision were hid';
And cold, rayless orbs seemed to tell me their sight
By Him was recalled', who said, 'Let there be light.'
From scenes deep and sad', to the skies high and clear',
I rose in a vapor, to fall in a tear.

"Approaching the earth, where I paused on thy stem',
Transfixed by a sunbeam', I turned to a gem!
That delicate union of water and light,

Where so many beauties and wonders unite',
Was formed on thy head', and disporting its powers',
To mark thee the fairest and sweetest of flowers.
And now, the next form that to sight I assume',
I hope will appear on thy stalk, in its bloom!"

The Drop sunk away where the root drew it in.
And ye, who will go, when the lilies begin
Their buds to unfold to the warm, vernal sun',
And look in the vale', ye may there find the one
That cast off her crown'; and the Drop will be seen
To rise gently up o'er the leaves fresh and green',
Transformed to a bell of a pure, snowy white',
And still praising Him, who said', "Let there be light."

LESSON LXXXI.

THE WHITE CLOUD.

WHAT next-what next', thou changeful thing',
With the feathery breast and the silver wing',
That seem'st, like a lonely bird', to fly

To some distant home, o'er the clear, blue sky'?
I saw thee suspended, a moment ago',
By a hand unseen, like a wreath of snow',
Withheld from a fall that might give it a stain'
So deep it could never be blanched again.

And once thou hast shone in a cluster of flowers',
Pure as if bent from the heavenly bowers',
Defying this valley of shadow and blight'
To sully or wither their leaves of light'!
I've seen thee, too, pass over my head',
Like a beautiful ship with her sails all spread',
That, laden with treasures too pure and bright
For an earthly touch', or a mortal's sight',
Was proud to some far-off port to bear'
Her viewless riches through seas of air!
Again-thou hast seemed as the spirit of love'
His mantle had dropped from the realms above',
And 't was floating along, as a sign, to show'
To those who might look from the world below',
That their garments must be of a spotless white'
Before they can enter a world of light'!
Beautiful changeling! now'-even now',
I see thee dissolving', I know not how-
Thine atoms are scattered', and, one by one',
Melted and lost in the rays of the sun!
Vapor deceitful! cloud of the morn'!

Like thee are the hopes that of earth are born'!
Their forms are varying, high and fair',
But melted by light'-rent in pieces by air'!
Bright vision of falsehood', thou shalt teach
The soul, in her search for joys, to reach'
To a world of truth, where deceit is o'er-
Where changes and clouds shall be known no more!

LESSON LXXXII.

THE RIVULET.

THIS little rill that, from the springs
Of yonder grove, its current brings',
Plays on the slope a while, and then'
Goes prattling into groves again',
Oft to its warbling waters drew
My little feet', when life was new.
When woods in early green were dressed',
And from the chambers of the west

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The warmer breezes', traveling out, Breathed the new scent of flowers about', My truant steps from home would stray Upon its grassy side to play',

List the brown thrasher's vernal hymn',
And crop the violet on its brim',

With blooming cheek and open brow',
As young and gay, sweet rill', as thou.

And when the days of boyhood came',
And I had grown in love with fame',
Duly I sought thy banks', and tried
My first rude numbers by thy side.
Words cannot tell how bright and gay
The scenes of life before me lay.
Then glorious hopes', that now to speak
Would bring the blood into my cheek',
Passed o'er mè; and I wrote, on high',
A name I deemed would never die.

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Years change thee not. Upon yon hill The tall old maples, verdant still', Yet tell', in grandeur of decay', How swift the years have passed away', Since first, a child', and half afraid', I wandered in the forest shade. 'Thou', ever joyous rivulet', Dost dimple, leap', and prattle yet'; And sporting with the sands that The windings of thy silver wave', And dancing to thy own wild chime', Thou laughest at the lapse of time. The same sweet sounds are in my ear My early childhood loved to hear; As pure thy limpid waters run', As bright they sparkle to the sun'; As fresh and thick the bending ranks Of herbs that line thy oozy banks`; The violet there, in soft May dew', Comes up, as modest', and as blue'; As green amid thy current's stress', Floats the scarce-rooted watercress'; And the brown groundbird', in thy glen', Still chirps as merrily as then.

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