The oak tree and the cedar tree, 2. We might have had enough, enough For luxury, medicine, and toil, 3. The ore within the mountain mine Nor doth it need the lotus flower* 4. The clouds might give abundant rain, And herb, that keepeth life in man, 5. Then, wherefore, wherefore were they made, 6. Springing in valleys green and low, 7. Our outward life requires them not— 8. To comfort man-to whisper hope, For who so careth for the flowers, LESSON XXI. The Pebble and the Acorn. 1. "I AM a Pebble! and yield to none!" * Lotus, a plant which grows in the water, and blossoms on its surface. L The pelting hail and the drizzling rain That's gone from sight, and under the sod! Rattling along from the restless bough?" Than the angry look, or the keen retort, And soon, in the earth, she sunk away From the comfortless spot where the Pebble lay, 5. But it was not long ere the soil was broke By the peering head of an infant oak! And, as it arose, and its branches spread, The Pebble looked up, and wondering said :— "A modest Acorn never to tell What was enclosed in its simple shell! 6. And oh! how many will tread on me, LESSON XXII. Little Lewis. 1. MANY years ago, while I was in college, I opened a Sabbath School in a distant, neglected neighborhood, yet within the limits of the town. At first, the project was greatly ridiculed, and many opposed. But ridicule and opposition soon give way to a good cause; and in a short time I had seventy scholars. 2. The room in which we met was an unfinished chamber of a poor, lame woman-the only place that was offered. The floor was not nailed down, and neither ceiling nor plaster had ever been seen in the chamber. The chimney passed up in the centre, and the bare rafters were over our heads. 3. Yet never did I see brighter or happier faces than among the little groups with which I regularly met. They lived so far from meeting, that few could attend; or, rather, their parents felt too indifferent to carry them; so that their Sabbath School embraced all that was Sabbath to them. 4. It is now many years since, and I suppose they have all grown up, or have been removed into eternity ere this time; but I can never forget this, my first Sabbath School, nor the happy countenances which composed it. 5. One hot Sabbath, I had walked out to meet my Sabbath School, and, at the close of the lessons, I felt weary and unwell. The children were expecting me to give them a history of the holy Sabbath, from its first appointment, and to tell them why God appointed it, and what are our duties in regard to it; for so I had promised them, and had in fact prepared myself to do it. But being weary and unwell, I told them that, for these reasons, I would defer it till the next Sabbath. 6. While thus putting it off, I noticed a bright little boy, sitting near me, who seemed to look disappointed. He had expected to hear about the holy Sabbath. Oh, had I remembered how Christ taught the poor woman of Samaria, though he was weary and faint, should I not have done dif ferently? 7. The next Sabbath came, and my scholars were again coming together. On arriving at the house, instead of finding them all quiet in their seats, as usual, I found them standing around the door, some sobbing, others looking frightened-all silent. On inquiry, they told me that little Lewis had just been killed by the mill ! 8. At the head of my little flock, I hastened to the house where the little boy lived. At the door I was met by the father of the child, wringing his hands, his face red and swollen, his eyes sunken and glaring, and his breath loaded with the fumes of ardent spirits. 9. "Oh!" cried the man, "I might have known it. I might have known it all!” 10. " Might have known what, sir?" 11. "Oh. I might have known that to-day one of my family must go; but I did not think-could not think—it must be my youngest boy!" 12. Pray, how might you have known that one must die to-day?" 13. "Why, when I came home last evening, old Rover " (pointing to a stupid old dog that lay crouched under the table) "sat on the door-steps, with his face to the east, howling, and howling. I knew, then, some one-or I might have known that some one-must go to-day, but did not think it must be poor little Lewis!" 14. "Do you believe there is a God?" 15. "Oh yes, have no doubt of it." 16. "And do you suppose he reveals events to a dog, a creature without a soul, and without reason, which he does not reveal to the wisest of men? Nothing is more common than for a dog to howl, when his master is gone, and he feels lonely; and as to his face being towards the east, I see nothing strange in that, since your house faces the east." 17. "Ah! you may say so, but I might have known it would come." And again he turned away, to sob, and, I fear, to drink, and then wonder over his being more stupid than his dog. 18. I led my scholars into the room. They seemed to breathe only from the top of their lungs. I lifted up the white napkin, and there was little Lewis-a mangled corpse! The little girls covered their faces with their handkerchiefs and aprons. The little boys wiped their eyes with their hands, and with the sleeves of their jackets. 19. For some weeks it had been very dry, and the streams had become low. But during the preceding day and night, a heavy rain had fallen. A mill, on a small stream near by, which had stood still for some time for want of water, was set a-going early on Sabbath morning. I need not ask if the miller feared God. 20. About an hour before the Sabbath School usually came together, little Lewis went down to the mill-stream to bathe. The poor boy had never seen his parents keep the Sabbath holy. He swam out into the stream. The current was strong-too strong for him-he raised the cry of distress-the miller heard him, and saw him, but was too much frightened to do any thing. 21. The current swept along-the little boy struggled again cried for help-the waters rushed on-he was sucked down under the gate-the great mill wheel rolled roundcrash!—he was in a moment crushed and dead! Scarcely had his last cry reached the ears of the miller, before his mangled corpse came out from under the wheel. It was the same little boy who had looked so disappointed the week before, because I omitted to talk about the holy Sabbath. 22. While standing beside the lifeless clay of this fair child, with all the children about me, my feelings were sad indeed. It seemed as if every child would cry out, "Oh, had you kept your word, and told us about breaking the Sabbath, he would not have gone into the water-he would not have lain there dead." It seemed as if the lips, though sealed by the hand of death, would open and reproach me. 23. "Had I not put off my duty, probably this life would have been saved.-What sacrifices would I not make, could that child once more come into my Sabbath School!" Such were my thoughts. I have never been able to look back upon that scene without keen anguish. I have sometimes |