something, but it will be a crowd of lumber, like the articles in a broker's shop. IIe must think; he must turn over subjects in his mind; he must look at them on every side; he must trace the connection between ideas, and have everything orderly arranged.

2. A man may even think a great deal, and not think clearly; his mind may be at work, and yet always be in confusion; there may be no clear arrangement, and it is quite possible to mistake muddiness for depth. There are some men who appear very thoughtful, but, from never aiming at accurate habits of thought, they talk most unintelligibly. There seems to be neither beginning, middle, nor end in what they say; all is a confused jumble.

3. Writing carefully is a good plan for acquiring habits of clear and connected thought, since a man is more likely to detect the disorder of his thoughts in writing than in talking.-Rev. J. Stoughton.

IT

LESSON 13.

THE TWO ROADS.

T was New-Year's night; and Von Arden, having fallen into an unquiet slumber, dreamed that he was an aged man standing at a window. He raised his mournful eyes toward the deep blue sky, where the stars were floating, like white lilies on the surface of a clear, calm lake. Then he cast them on the earth, where few more helpless beings than himself now moved toward their certain goal the tomb.

2. Already, as it seemed to him, he had passed sixty of the stages which lead to it, and he had brought from his journey nothing but errors and remorse. His health was destroyed, his mind vacant, his heart sorrowful, and his old age devoid of comfort.

3. The days of his youth rose up in a vision before him, and he recalled the solemn moment when his father had placed him at the entrance of two roads-one leading into a peaceful, sunny land, covered with a fertile harvest, and resounding with soft, sweet songs; the other leading the wanderer into a deep, dark cave, whence there was no issue, where poison flowed instead of water, and where serpents hissed and crawled.

4. He looked toward the sky, and cried out in his agony, "Oh, days of my youth, return! Oh, my father, place me once more at the entrance to life, that I may choose the better way!" But the days of his youth and his father had both passed away.

5. He saw wandering lights floating away over dark marshes, and then disappear: these were the days of his wasted life. He saw a star fall from heaven, and vanish in darkness: this was an emblem of himself; and the sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck home to his heart. Then he remembered his early companions, who entered on life with him, but who, having trod the paths of virtue and of labor, were now honored and happy on this New-Year's night.

6. The clock in the high church-tower struck, and, the sound falling on his ear, recalled his parents' early love for him, their erring son; the lessons they had taught him; the prayers they had offered up on his behalf. Overwhelmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look toward that heaven where his father dwelt; his darkened eyes dropped tears, and with one despairing ef fort he cried aloud, "Come back, my early days! come back!"

7. And his youth did return; for all this was but a dream which visited his slumbers on New-Year's night. He was still young; his faults alone were real. He thanked God fervently that time was still his own; that he had not yet entered the deep, dark cavern, but that

he was free to tread the road leading to the peaceful land, where sunny harvests wave.

8. Ye who still linger on the threshold of life, doubting which path to choose, remember that, when years have passed, and your feet stumble on the dark mountain, you will cry bitterly, but cry in vain: "Oh, youth return! Oh, give me back my early days!"-Richter.

LESSON 14.

TO THE KATYDID.

I LOVE to hear thine earnest voice,

Wherever thou art hid,

Thou testy little dogmatist,

Thou pretty Katydid!

Thou mindest me of gentlefolks,—

Old gentlefolks are they,-
Thou say'st an undisputed thing
In such a solemn way.

2. Thou art a female Katydid!
I know it by the trill

That quivers through thy piercing notes.

So petulant and shrill.

I think there is a knot of you
Beneath the hollow tree,-
A knot of spinster Katydids,—
Do Katydids drink tea?

3. Oh, tell me, where did Katy live,
And what did Katy do?

And was she very fair and young,
And yet so wicked, too?

Did Katy love a naughty man,

Or kiss more cheeks than one?
I warrant Katy did no more
Than many a Kate has done.

4. Dear me: I'll tell you all abouv
My fuss with little Jane,

And Ann, with whom I used to walk
So often down the lane,

And all that tore their locks of black,
Or wet their eyes of blue; -
Pray, tell me, sweetest Katydid,
What did poor Katy do?

5. Ah, no! the living oak shall crash That stood for ages still,

The rock shall rend its mossy base

And thunder down the hill,

Before the little Katydid

Shall add one word, to tell
The mystic story of the maid

Whose name she knows so well.

6. Peace to the ever-murmuring race! And when the latest one

6*

Shall fold in death her feeble wings,
Beneath the autumn sun,

Then shall she raise her fainting voice,
And lift her drooping lid,

And then the child of future years
Shall hear what Katy did.

E

O. W. Holmes.

MRS.

LESSON 15.

MRS. LOFTY AND I.

RS. LOFTY keeps a carriage,
So do I;

She has dapple grays to draw it,
None have I;

She's no prouder with her coachman
Than am I;

With my blue-eyed laughing baby,
Trundling by;

I hide his face, lest she should see
The cherub boy, and envy me.

2. Her fine husband has white fingers,
Mine has not;

He could give his bride a palace
Mine a cot;

Hers comes home beneath the starlight-
Ne'er cares she;

Mine comes in the purple twilight,

Kisses me,

And prays that He who turns life's sands
Will hold his loved ones in His hands.

3. Mrs. Lofty has her jewels,

So have I ;

She wears hers upon her bosom
Inside I;

She will leave hers at death's portal
By-and-by;

I shall bear my treasure with me
When I die;

For I have love and she has gold:

She counts her wealth mine can't be told.