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God, which brought you out of the land of Egypt. Therefore shall ye observe all my statutes, and all my judgments, and do them.— Bible.

LESSON CIX.

Creation of Birds.-Milton.

"I MEANWHILE the tepid caves, and fens and shores,

Their brood as numerous hatch, from the egg that soon,
Bursting with kindly rupture, forth disclosed
Their callow young; but feathered soon and fledge,

They summed their pens, and soaring the air sublime, - With clang despised the ground, under a cloud

In prospect; there the eagle and the stork
On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build :
Part loosely wing the region ; part more wise

In common, ranged in figure wedge their way, 2 Intelligent of seasons, and set forth

Their airy caravans high over seas
Flying, and over lands with mutual wing
Easing their flight : so steers the prudent crane
Her annual voyage, borne on winds; the air
Floats, as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes.
From branch to branch the smaller birds with song
Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings

Till even; nor then the solemn nightingale
3 Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays:
Others on silver lakes and rivers bathed
Their downy breast; the swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet; yet ost they quit
The dank, and, rising on stiflo penons, tower
The mid aerial sky. Others on ground
Walked firm ; the crested cock, whose clarion sounds
The silent hours, and the other whose gay train
Adorns him, colored with the florid hue
Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus
With fish replenished, and the air with fowl,
Evening and morn solemnized the fifth day.

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“Oh! for a soft and gentle wind,”

I heard a fair one cry;
----But give to me the snoring breeze,

And white waves heaving high ;
And white waves heaving high, my boys,

The good ship tight and free;
The world of waters is our home,

And merry men are we.

There's tempest in yon horned moon,

And lightning in yon cloud ;
And hark the music, mariners-

The wind is piping loud;
The wind is piping loud, my boys,

The lightning flashes free,
While the hollow oak our palace is,

Our heritage the sea.

Village Sounds at Evening. Sweer was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. There as I passed, with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came softened from below: The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, 'The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; These all in soft confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightinga', had made.

LESSON CX. The Porcupine Temper.---Miss EdgewORTH. .1 Mrs. Bolingbroke. I wish I knew what was the mat

ter with me this morning. Why do you keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?

Mr. Bolingbroke. Here it is for you, my dear: I have finished it.

Mrs. B. I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it. I hate stale news. Is there any thing in the paper ? for I cannot be at the trouble of hunting it.

Mr. B. Yes, my dear; there are the marriages of 2 two of our friends.

Mrs. B. Who? Who?

Mr. B. Your friend, the widow Nettleby, to her cousin John Nettleby.

Mrs. B. Mrs. Neitleby! Dear! But why did you tell me?

Mr. B. Because you asked me, my dear.

Mrs. B. Oh, but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one's self. One loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told. Well, whose was 3 the other marriage ?

Mr. B. Oh, my dear, I will not tell you; I will leave you the pleasure of the surprise.

Mrs. B. But you see I cannot find it. How provoking you are, my dear! Do pray tell me.

Mr. B. Our friend; Mr. Granby.

Mrs. B. Mr. Granby! Dear! Why did not you make me guess? I should have guessed him directly. But why do you call him our friend? I am sure he is no friend of mine, nor ever was. I took an aversion 4 to him, as you remember, the very first day I saw him. I am sure he is no friend of mine.

Mr. B. I am sorry for it, my dear ; but I hope you will go and see Mrs. Granby.

Mrs. B. Not I, indeed, my dear. Who was she?
Mr. B. Miss Cooke.

Mrs. B. Cooke! But there are so many Cookes Can't you distinguish her any way? Has she no Christian name?

Mr. B. Emma, I think. Yes, Emma. 5 Mrs. B. Emma Cooke !--No; it cannot be my friend

Emma Cooke ; for I am sure she was cut out for an old maid.

Mr. B. This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife.

Mrs. B. May be so—I am sure I'll never go to see her. Pray, my dear, how came you to see so much of her ?

Mr. B. I have seen very little of her, my dear. I only saw her two or three times before she was married. 6 Mrs. B. Then, my dear, how could you decide that

she was cut out for a good wife? I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times, and before she was married.

Mr. B. Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation.

Mrs. B. I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my dear. I must own I can bear any thing better than irony.

Mr. B. Irony! my dear, I was perfectly in earnest. 7 Mrs. B. Yes, yes; in earnest-so I perceive-I may naturally be dull of apprehension, but my feelings are quick enough; I comprehend too well. Yes—it is impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or to guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from experience; you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your choice

Mr. B. My dear, what did I say that was like this? Upon my word, I meant no such thing. I really was not thinking of you in the least. 8 Mrs. B. No—you never think of me now. I can easily believe that you were not thinking of me in the least.

Mr. B. But I said that only to prove to you that I could not be thinking ill of you, my dear.

Mrs. B. But I would rather that you thought ill of me, than that you did not think of me at all.

Mr. B. Well, my dear, I will even think ill of you, if that will please you.

Mrs. B. Do you laugh at me? When it comes to this, 9 I am wretched indeed. Never man laughed at the

woman he loved. As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me, you could not make me an object of derision : ridicule and love are incompatible absolutely incompatible. Well, I have done my best, my very best, to make you happy, but in vain. I see I am not cut out to be a good wife. Happy, happy Mrs. Granby!

Mr. B. Happy, I hope sincerely, that she will be with my friend; but my happiness must depend on you, 10 my love; so, for my sake, if not for your own, be composed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies.

Mrs. B. I do wonder whether this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I'll go and see her directly ; see her I must.

Mr. B. I.am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am sure a visit to his wife will give my friend Granby real pleasure.

Mrs. B. I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure or you either ? but to satisfy my own curiosity.

LESSON CXI.

To a Waterfowl.-BRYANT.

WHITHER, 'midst falling dew,-
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue

Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,

Thy figure floats along.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink

On the chafed ocean-side ? :

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