XXXI.- THE USE OF FLOWERS.

MRS. HOWITT.

GOD might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small;
The oak tree and the cedar tree,
Without a flower at all.

We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours;
For luxury, medicine, and for toil,
And yet have had no flowers.

The ore within the mountain mine
Requireth none to grow;
Nor doth it need the lotus flower
To make the river flow.

The clouds might give abundant rain,
The nightly dews might fall,
And the herb that keepeth life in man
Might yet have drunk them all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow light,
All fashioned with supremest grace,
Upspringing day and night;-

Springing in valleys green and low,
And on the mountains high,

And in the silent wilderness
Where no man passes by?

Our outward life requires them not;
Then wherefore had they birth?

To minister delight to man,

To beautify the earth;

To comfort man, to whisper hope,
Whene'er his faith is dim;

For who so careth for the flowers,
Will much more care for him.

XXXII.-THE ADOPTED CHILD.

MRS. HEMANS.

"WHY wouldst thou leave me, O gentle child?
Thy home on the mountains is bleak and wild -
A straw-roofed cabin with lowly wall:
Mine is a fair and a pillared hall,

Where many an image of marble gleams,
And the sunshine of picture forever streams."

"O, green is the turf where my brothers play,
Through the long, bright hours of the summer day;
They find the red cup-moss where they climb,
And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme;
And the rocks where the heathflower blooms they know.
Lady, kind lady! O, let me go!"

"Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell;

66

Here are sweet sounds which thou lovest well;

Flutes on the air in the stilly noon,

Harps which the wandering breezes tune;
And the silvery wood-note of many a bird,
Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard."

My mother sings, at the twilight's fall,

A song of the hills, far more sweet than all;

She sings it, under our own green tree,
To the babe half slumbering on her knee;
I dreamed last night of that music low.
Lady, kind lady! O, let me go!"

"Thy mother is gone from her cares to rest;
She hath taken the babe on her quiet breast;
Thou wouldst meet her footstep, my boy, no more,
Nor hear her song at the cabin door.

Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh,
And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest dye."

"Is my mother gone from her home away?
But I know that my brothers are there at play;
I know they are gathering the foxglove's bell,
Or the long fern leaves by the sparkling well,

Or they launch their boats where the bright streams flow.
Lady, kind lady! O, let me go!"

"Fair child, thy brothers are wanderers now;
They sport no more on the mountain's brow;
They have left the fern by the spring's green side,
And the streams where the fairy barks were tried.
Be thou at peace in thy brighter lot,

For thy cabin home is a lonely spot."

"Are they gone, all gone from the sunny hill?

But the bird and the blue fly rove o'er it still,
And the red deer bound in their gladness free,
And the turf is bent by the singing bee,
And the waters leap, and the fresh winds blow.
Lady, kind lady! O, let me go!"

XXXIII. - A LION HUNT.

GERARD.

[This lesson, and the two following, are taken from the Adventures of Gerard the Lion Killer, translated from the French by Charles E. Whitehead. Gerard is an officer in the French army employed in Algeria, in North Africa, which is now a French province. Being a man of courage and an admirable marksman, he succeeded in killing a great number of lions, and thus acquired a high reputation both among his own countrymen and the natives of the country. Lions commit such ravages among their cattle that he who destroys one becomes a great benefactor to the public. Gerard's adventures have been recently published in Paris, where they have attracted much attention. They are written in a very spirited style, and his daring feats are modestly narrated.]

On the 4th of August, 1844, I received an invitation from the inhabitants of Mahou'na,* the lion's paradise, which I immediately accepted: on my arrival about sunset, I found the village surrounded by immense piles of light wood, arranged for the reception of the lion, that paid them nightly calls. I forbade their being kindled, and immediately selected the place I intended to occupy, in order to waylay him that very night, in case he should come as usual to prey on the herds.

Having by careful searching found the route by which the animal usually came, I took my seat directly in his path, in spite of the remonstrances of the Arabs. Finding me fixed in my purpose, they brought me mats and cushions; and a smoking repast was soon placed by the side of the couch that was to serve me for the night. My hosts remained with me till a late hour, telling many tragic stories of the strength and ferocity of the lion. As midnight approached, the party broke up, with many prayers for my success. I remained on the watch with a native corporal in the French service, named Saadi, whose brother was chief of this country. He was armed with a carbine, and I with a double barrelled rifle.

About one o'clock in the morning, my Arab friend, little accustomed to these night watches, pleaded guilty to being very sleepy, and stretched himself out behind me, where, to do him justice, he slept most soundly, I know many brave men who

* Mahouna is a place in the province of Guelma, in Algeria.

would not have done as much, while lying in wait for a lion. I had taken the precaution to have all the dogs tied up under the tents, so as to quiet their customary clamor; and now, in the dead silence around me, I could detect the faintest noise or motion.

Up to this time the heavens had been serene, and the moon clear; but soon clouds gathered in the west, and came scudng past before a warm, sultry wind; and a little later the sky was all overcast, the moon disappeared, and the thunder rolled round us in heavy peals, announcing a coming tempest. Then the rain fell in torrents, and drenching my companion, he awoke, and we consulted for a moment about returning. But while we were talking, an Arab called out from the tents, "Beware! the lion will come with the storm."

This decided me to remain at my post, and I covered the locks of my gun with the skirts of my coat. Soon the rain ceased; flashes of lightning played round the distant horizon; and the moon, brighter than ever, came in and out from the fleecy clouds over our heads. I took advantage of every one of these brief moments of clear sky to survey the country about me, and to examine every clump of trees or fallen log; and it was in one of these short luminous intervals that all of a sudden I thought I saw the lion. I waited breathless till the moon came out again. Yes, it was he! standing motionless only a few paces from the camp.

Accustomed to see fires lighted at every tent, to hear a hundred dogs barking in terror, and to see the men hurling lighted brands at him, he, without doubt, was at a loss to explain the rather suspicious silence that reigned around him.

While I was turning slowly round, in order to take better aim, without being seen by the animal, a cloud shut out the moon. I was seated with my left elbow on my knee, my rifle at my shoulder, watching by turns the lion, that I only recognized as a confused mass, and the passing cloud, the extent of which I anxiously contemplated.

At length it passed by; and the moonlight, dearer to me