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lows are of a very different construction from those of other birds. They require neither wood, nor hay, nor cords; they make a kind of mortar, with which they form a neat, secure, and comfortable habitation for themselves and their family. To moisten the dust, of which they build their nest, they dip their breasts in water, and shake the drops from their wet feathers upon it. But the nests most worthy of admiration are those of certain Indian birds, which suspend them with great art from the branches of trees, to secure them from the depredations of various animals and insects.-In general, every species of birds has a peculiar mode of building; but it may be remarked of all alike, that they always construct their nests in the way that is best adapted to their security, and to the preservation and welfare of their species.

Such is the wonderful instinct of birds with respect to the structure of their nests. What skill and sagacity! 16 industry and patience do they display! And is it not apparent that all their labours... wards certain ends? They construct their nests hollow and nearly 1. that they may retain the heat so much the better. They line them with the most delicate substances, that the young may lie soft and warm. What is it that teaches the bird to place her nest in a situation sheltered from the rain, and secure against the attacks of other animals? How did she learn that she should lay eggs,—that eggs would require a nest to prevent them from falling to the ground, and to keep them warm? Whence does she know that the heat would not be maintained around the eggs if the nest were too large; and that, on the other hand, the young would not have sufficient room if it were smaller? By what rules does she determine the due proportions between the nest and the young, which are not yet in existence? Who has taught her to calculate the time with such accuracy that she never commits a mistake, and produces her eggs before the nest is ready to receive them? Admire in all these things the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of her Creator! STURM.

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THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

A NIGHTINGALE that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,—
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied, far off upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark!
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.

The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent :-
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;

For 'twas the self-same power Divine
Taught you to sing and me to shine,
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."

The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

COWPER.

HONESTY OF A MORAVIAN.

In the last German war, a captain of cavalry was appointed to procure forage; he accordingly went at the head of his troops to the place assigned them for the purpose ;it was a solitary valley, in which the eye) perceived nothing but clusters of trees. At last the officer discovered a cottage, and, knocking at the door, it was opened by an old Moravian with a white beard. "Father," said the captain, “show me a field where we can procure forage." -"I will,” replied the old man. He then put himself at their head, and conducted them out of the valley. After riding for about a quarter of an hour, they arrived

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at a fine field of barley. Stop," said the officer to his guide, "this is what we want." "Wait a little," replied the Moravian," and you shall be satisfied." They then continued their progress, and at the distance of a quarter of a league they found another field of the same grain. When the soldiers had cut the corn and remounted their horses, the officer said to his guide,—“ Father, you have brought us a great way unnecessarily; the first field was better than this."- "True," replied the old man, "but that field does not belong to me !" What a noble instance of truly Christian virtue! rather than injure his neighbour's property, the worthy Moravian sacrificed his own. ST PIERRE.

THE NETTLE.

А. Он, рaрa! I have stung my hand with that nasty nettle.

F. Well, my dear, I am sorry for it; but pull up that large dock-leaf you see near it ;;-now bruise the juice out of it on the part you have stung.-Well, is the pain lessened?

A. Oh, very much indeed-I hardly feel it now. But I wish there was not a nettle in the world; I am sure I do not know what use there can be in them.

F. If you knew any thing of botany, Nanny, you would not say so; for there is much beauty, and use and instruction, in a nettle.

A. Oh, papa, how can you make that out?

F. Put on your glove, pluck up that nettle, and let us examine it. Take this magnifying glass, and look at the leaves.

A. Oh, I see they are all covered over with little bristles; and when I examine them with the glass, I see a little bag filled with a juice like water at the bottom of each-Ha! these are the things which stung me.

F. Now, touch the bag with the point of this pin. A. When I press the bag the juice runs up, and comes out at the small point at the top; so I suppose the little thorn must be hollow inside, though it is finer than the point of my cambric needle.

F. Now, look at the stem, and break it.

A. I can easily crack it, but I cannot break it asunder. F. Well, now you see there are more curious things in a nettle than you expected.

A. You have often told me, papa, that God made nothing in vain ; but I am sure I cannot see any use for all these things in a nettle.

to man.

F. That we will now consider. God has given to all his creatures some kind of defence that they may protect themselves; and for this purpose the bull has horns, and the nettle stings. But even these stings are made of use There are certain diseases which require sharp remedies. You yourself had occasion to know this; for once you were in pain, and your good uncle, the doctor, thought it necessary to put a blister on the part, and, under God, you got relief. Well, the poor cannot always get a blister, so they frequently use nettles. They strike the part that is in pain, and the points entering the skin, it presses on the little bags at the bottom; the juice is then forced up and comes out at the point; and wherever it is left behind it makes a little blister, which gives relief to the pain. But when there is no occasion to use nettles in this way, and you accidentally sting your hand with them, you find a plant beside them, and the mild juice of the one immediately corrects the sharp pain of the other; so that you see how good Providence is. When the nettle is wanted for a remedy, it removes the pain of the sick; when it is not necessary for that purpose, the dock-leaf grows beside it, to heal the pain it may give itself.

A. But is the stalk of any use, papa ?

F. You saw how very tough the fibres or strings of the bark were; they are for that reason often used in the room of hemp or flax. There is a plant called hempnettle, which the farmers of Yorkshire sow for the purpose. When ripe it is steeped in water, the stem decays, and the bark remains in strings; these are dressed like flax, and the farmers weave them into strong bags, frock coats, and other useful articles.

A. Well, I am sure, I never thought of such things

when I have trampled on a poor nettle, and I am very much obliged to you for instructing me.

F. I would wish to instruct you a little more, my dear child, and on a still more important point. You were angry and impatient when the nettle stung you, and seemed to repine at that which God had made; but you see how good and perfect is the thing you despised. Every thing, when examined, is equally a proof of God's wisdom and goodness. He creates nothing in vain. The Bible tells us, "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork ;" and so does every thing else in nature. God is every where, and his hand is in all things; you see him in the sun, moon, and stars, which glitter in the sky; and you see him in the humble nettle, which you despise and trample on.

DR WALSH.

It is six

ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON.

of the late President Washington, when about of age, that some one made him the

hatchet; of which, being, like most ately fond, he

of a

immoder

about chopping every thing that

in his way; and going into the garden, he unluckily tried its on an English cherry-tree, which he so terribly as to leave very little of its recovery. The next morning his father the tree, which was a vourite, in that condition, and

the mischief, declaring he would not guineas for the but nobody could sently after, however, George

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hand, into the place where his

mediately suspected him to be the

fa

who had done

have taken five

him. Pre

with the hatchet in

was, who im"George," that

said the old gentleman, "do you know who beautiful little cherry-tree, yonder in the child hesitated for a

?" The

and then nobly replied,

"I can't tell a , papa ;—you know I can't tell a

I did cut it with my

boy!" exclaimed his

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"Run to my arms, my

run to my

I, George, that you have killed my

! glad am for you have

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