THE BEAUTIFUL.

THERE'S beauty in the golden sheen
Diffusing from the sun,
And gorgeous beauty oft is seen

When summer days are done.

There's beauty in the rivulet

That sparkles bright and free, And beauty spans the river broad That courseth to the sea.

There's beauty in the torrent wild That thunders down the vale; There's beauty in the zephyr's sigh, And in the tempest's wail.

There's beauty in the thunder storm,
And in an April shower;
So beauty touches every leaf,
And kisses every flower.

Beauty doth dwell in every glen,
Haunts every shrub and tree;
It bathes in every crystal lake,
And floats on every sea.

There's beauty in a loving smile,
And beauty in a tear,

And also in the pleasant ways

Of those we hold most dear.

There's beauty in a dimpled cheek,
And in a laughing eye;

It comes to us in every glance,
And breathes in every sigh.

And beauty

how much beauty! - beams

O'er virtue's golden way,

And shines in deeds of kindness done

To those who go astray.

There's beauty stamped on every thing,

Above, around, below;

Its impress has by God been fixed

On all we see or know.

MEETING OF THE THREE INDIANS.

PARTED many a toil-spent year,
Pledged in youth to memory dear,
Still to friendship's magnet true,
We our social bonds renew;
Bound by love's unsevered chain,
Here on earth we meet again.

But our bower, sunk by decay,
Wasting time has swept away;
And the youthful evergreen,
Lopped by death, no more is seen ;
Bleak the winds sweep o'er the plain,
Where, in age, we meet again.

Many a friend we used to greet
Here on earth no more we meet ;
Oft the funeral knell has rung,
Many a heart has sorrow stung,
Since we parted on this plain,
Fearful ne'er to meet again.

Worn by toil and sunk with years,
Soon we'll quit this vale of tears,
And these hoary locks be laid
Low in cold oblivion's shade;
But where saints and angels reign,
There we hope to meet again.

THE ORIGIN OF MANKIND.

A CATAWBA LEGEND.

THERE was a time when the world was an unbroken waste of rocks, hills, and mountains, save only one small valley, which was distinguished for its luxuriance, and where reigned a perpetual summer. At that time, too, the only human being who inhabited the earth was a woman, whose knowledge was confined to this valley, and who is remembered among the Catawbas as the mother of mankind. She lived in a cavern, and her food consisted of the honey of flowers and the sweet berries and other fruits of the wilderness. Birds without number, and the wild streams which found a resting-place in the valley, made the only music which she ever heard. Among the wild animals, which were very numerous about her home, she wandered without any danger; but the beaver and the doe were her favorite companions. In personal appearance she was eminently beautiful, and the lapse of years only had a tendency to increase the brightness of her eyes and the grace of her movements. The dress she wore was made of those bright green leaves which infold the water lilies, and her hair was as long as the grass which fringed

the waters of her native vale. She was the ruling spirit of a perennial world, for even the very flowers which bloomed about her sylvan home were never known to wither or die. In spite of her lonely condition, she knew not what it was to be lonely; but ever and anon a strange desire found its way to her heart, which impelled her to explore the wild country which surrounded her home. For many days had she resisted the temptation to become a wanderer from her charming valley, until it so happened, on a certain morning, that a scarlet butterfly made its appearance before the door of her cave, and by the hum of its wings invited her away. She obeyed the summons, and followed the butterfly far up a rocky ravine, until she came to the foot of a huge waterfall, when she was deserted by her mysterious pilot, and first became acquainted with the emotion of fear. Her passage of the ravine had been comparatively easy; but when she endeavored, in her consternation, to retrace her steps, she found her efforts unavailing, and fell to the ground in despair. A deep sleep then overcame her senses, from which she was not awakened until the night was far spent; and then the dampness of the dew had fallen upon her soft limbs, and for the first time in her life did she feel the pang of a bodily pain. Forlorn and desolate indeed was her condition, and she felt that some great event was about to happen, when, as she