THE HAPPY CHILD.
I THANK the goodness and the grace
Which on my birth have smiled,
And made me in these Christian days
A happy English child.

I was not born, as thousands are,
Where God is never known,

And taught to pray a useless prayer
To blocks of wood and stone.

I was not born a little slave,
To labour in the sun,

And wish I were but in the grave,
And all my labour done.

I was not born without a home,
Or in some broken shed,

Like some poor children, taught to roam
And beg their daily bread.

My God, I thank Thee who hast plann'd

A better lot for me,

And placed me in this happy land,

Where I may hear of Thee.

Taylor.

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.

"WILL you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly;

“”Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,

And I have many curious things to show when you are there.” "Oh, no, no," said the little Fly; "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

“I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,

And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"

Oh, no, no," said the little Fly;" for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!" Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend, what can I do

Το prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome—will you please to take a
slice ?"

"Oh, no, no," said the little Fly; "kind sir, that cannot be ; I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!" "Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise;

How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!

I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,

If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased

to say,

And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day." The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again :

So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.

Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, "Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver

wing;

Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your

head;

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer

drew,

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue

Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish thing! At last,

Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour-but she ne'er came out again!
—And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
Mary Howitt.

EVENING PRAYER.

ERE on my bed my limbs I lay,

God grant me grace my prayers to say;
O God! preserve my mother dear

In health and strength for many a year.

And oh, preserve my father too,
And may I pay him reverence due;
And may I my best thoughts employ
To be my parents' hope and joy.

And oh, preserve my brothers, both
From evil doings and from sloth,
And may we always love each other,
Our friends, our father, and our mother.
And still, O Lord! to me impart
An innocent and grateful heart,
That after my last sleep I may
Awake to thine eternal day. Amen.

THE WATCHMAN'S REPORT.
WATCHMAN, tell us of the night-
What its signs of promise are!
Traveller, o'er yon mountain's height
See that glory-beaming star!
Watchman, does its beauteous ray
Aught of hope or joy foretell?
Traveller, yes; it brings the day-
Promised day of Israel.

Watchman, tell us of the night—
Higher yet that Star ascends!
Traveller, blessedness and light,

Coleridge.

Peace and truth, its course portends. Watchman, will its beams alone

Gild the spot that gave them birth?

Traveller, ages are its own

See, it bursts o'er all the earth.

Watchman, tell us of the night,

For the morning seems to dawn. Traveller, darkness takes its flight— Doubt and terror are withdrawn. Watchman, let thy wandering cease; Hie thee to thy quiet home. Traveller, lo! the Prince of Peace

Lo! the Son of God is come.-John Bowring.

OBEDIENCE.

LET children that would fear the Lord
Hear what their teachers say;

With reverence hear their parents' word,
And with delight obey.

Have you not read what dreadful plagues
Are threaten'd by the Lord

To him that breaks his father's laws,
And mocks his mother's word?

What heavy guilt upon him lies!
How cursed is his name!
The ravens shall pick out his eyes,
And eagles eat the same.

But those that worship God, and give

Their parents honour due,

Here on this earth they long shall live,
And live hereafter too.

THE THIEF.

WHY should I deprive my neighbour
Of his goods against his will?
Hands were made for honest labour,
Not to plunder or to steal.

'Tis a foolish self-deceiving

By such tricks to hope for gain:

All that's ever got by thieving
Turns to sorrow, shame, and pain.

Have not Eve and Adam taught us
Their sad profit to compute
To what dismal state they brought us
When they stole forbidden fruit?

Watts.