uncovered her face and turned it to the sky, she beheld, bending over her prostrate form, and clothed in a cloud-like robe, the image of a being somewhat resembling herself, only that he was more stoutly made and of a much fiercer aspect. Her first emotion at this strange discovery was that of terror; but as the mysterious being looked upon her in kindness, and raised her lovingly from the ground, she confided in his protection, and listened to his words until the break of day.

He told her that he was a native of the far-off sky, and that he had discovered her in her forlorn condition while travelling from the evening to the morning star. He told her also that he had never before seen a being so soft and beautifully formed as she. In coming to her rescue, he had broken a command of the Great Spirit, or the Master of Life, and as he was afraid to return to the sky, he desired to spend his days in her society upon earth. With joy did she accept this proposal; and, as the sun rose above the distant mountains, the twain returned in safety to the luxuriant vale, where, as man and woman, for many moons, they lived and loved in perfect tranquillity and joy.

In process of time, the woman became a mother, from which time the happiness of the twain became more intense, but they at the same time endured more troubles than they had ever known before. The man was unhappy because he had

offended the Master of Life, and the mother was anxious about the comfort and happiness of her newly-born child. Many and devout were the prayers they offered to the Great Spirit for his guidance and protection, for they felt that from them were to be descended a race of beings more numerous than the stars of heaven. The Great Spirit had compassion on these lone inhabitants of the earth, and, in answer to their prayers, he caused a mighty wind to pass over the world, making the mountains crowd closely together, and rendering the world more useful and beautiful by the prairies and valleys and rivers which now cover it from the rising to the setting sun.

THE INDIAN'S DREAM OF HEAVEN.

THE Indian dreamed of a land far away,

Where mountains swell proudly, and wild streamlets play,
Where bright, verdant dells glance up like a dream,
And mirror the form of the wild mountain stream.

He dreamed of a hunting ground far, far away,

Where deer roam in freedom, and the wild chamois play;
Where nought broke the hush of the wild forest glade,
Save the low, plaintive murmur the forest stream made.
A beautiful land was the land of his dream,

With a flood of rich glory, more bright in its sheen
Than e'er shed its light on mortal's dim vision,
And this was the Indian's dream of Elysium.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

"Flowers are the alphabet of angels, whereby they write on the hills and fields mysterious truths.". - FRANKLIN.

THE fair lily is an image of holy innocence; the purple rose a figure of unfelt love; faith is represented to us in the blue passion flower; hope beams forth from the evergreen; peace from the olive branch; immortality from immortelle; the cares of life are represented by the rosemary; the victory of the spirit by the palm; modesty by the blue, fragrant violet; compassion by the ivy; tenderness by the myrtle; affectionate reminiscence by the forget-me-not; natural honesty and fidelity by the oak leaf; unassumingness by the corn flower; and the auricula, "how friendly they look upon us with their childlike eyes." Even the dispositions of the human soul are expressed by flowers. Thus silent grief is portrayed by the weeping willow; sadness by the angelica; shuddering by the aspen; melancholy by the cypress; desire of meeting again by the starwort; the night rocket is a figure of life, as it stands on the frontiers between light and darkness. Thus Nature, by these flowers, seems to betoken her loving sympathy with us; and whom hath she not often more consoled than heartless and voiceless men are able to do?

THE USE OF FLOWERS.

GOD might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small,

The oak tree and the cedar tree,

Without a flower at all.

He might have made enough, enough

For every want of ours

For luxury, medicine, and toil,

And yet have made no flowers.

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 mountain 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 whoso careth for the flowers
Will also care for him.

THE BRIGHT, BRIGHT FLOWERS.

THEY tell of a season when men were not,

When earth was by angels trod,

And leaves and flowers in every spot

Burst forth at the call of God;

When spirits, singing their hymns at even,

Wandered by wood and glade,

And the Lord looked down from the highest heaven, And blessed what he had made

The bright, bright flowers!

That blessing remaineth upon them still,
Though often the storm cloud lowers,
And frequent tempests may soil and chill
The gayest of all earth's flowers.
When Sin and Death, with their sister, Grief,
Made a home in the hearts of men,

The blessing of God on each tender leaf

Preserved in their beauty then

The bright, bright flowers!

The lily is lovely as when it slept

On the waters of Eden's lake;

The woodbine breathes sweetly as when it crept
In Eden from brake to brake.

They were left as the proof of the loveliness
Of Adam and Eve's first home;

They are here as a type of the joys that bless

The just in the world to come

The bright, bright flowers!