lived to whose very nature envy and petty jealousy were more foreign. His pride of self was like his pride of country. He was the proudest American; he was the proudest New Englander; and yet he was the most cosmopolitan American we have ever seen.

He is at rest now, the stalwart, brave old champion, whose face and bearing were so austere, and whose heart was so full of tenderness; who began his career with a pathetic plea for universal peace and charity, and whose whole life was an arduous, incessant, never-resting struggle, which left him all covered with scars. And we can do nothing for him but remember his lofty ideals of liberty, and equality, and justice, and reconciliation, and purity, and the earnestness, and courage, and touching fidelity with which he fought for them-so genuine in his sincerity, so singleminded in his zeal, so heroic in his devotion.

People of Massachusetts! He was the son of your soil, in which he now sleeps; but he is not all your own. He belongs to all of us in the North and in the South-to the blacks he helped to make free, and to the whites he strove to make brothers again. Over the grave of him whom so many thought to be their enemy, and found to be their friend, let the hands be clasped which so bitterly warred against each other. Let the youth of America be taught, by the story of his life, that not only genius, power, and success, but more than these, patriotic devotion and virtue, make the greatness of the citizen. If this lesson be understood, more than Charles Sumner's living word could have done for the glory of America, will be done by the inspiration of his great example. And it will truly be said, that although his body lies moldering in the earth, yet in the assured rights of all, in the brotherhood of a reunited people, and in a purified Republic, he still lives, and will live forever.

DIFFIDENCE.

"I'm after axin', Biddy dear—”
And here he paused awhile

To fringe his words the merest mite
With something of a smile-

A smile that found its image
In a face of beauteous mold,
Whose liquid eyes were peeping
From a broidery of gold.

"I've come to ax ye, Biddy dear,
If" then he stopped again,
As if his heart had bubbled o'er
And overflowed his brain.
His lips were twitching nervously
O'er what they had to tell,

And timed the quavers with the eyes
That gently rose and fell.

"I've come-" and then he took her hands

And held them in his own,

"To ax"-and then he watched the buds
That on her cheeks had blown,—
"Me purty dear-" and then he heard

The throbbing of her heart,

That told how love had entered in

And claimed its every part.

Och! don't be tazin' me," said she,
With just the faintest sigh,

"I've sinse enough to see you've come,
But what's the reason why?"
"To ax-" and once again the tongue
Forbore its sweets to tell,

"To ax-if Mrs. Mulligan

Has any pigs to sell."

THE LIPS THAT TOUCH LIQUOR MUST NEVER TOUCH MINE.-GEORGE W. YOUNG.

You are coming to woo me, but not as of yore,
When I hastened to welcome your ring at the door;
For I trusted that he who stood waiting me then,
Was the brightest, the truest, the noblest of men.
Your lips, on my own when they printed "Farewell,"
Had never been soiled by "the beverage of hell;"
But they come to me now with the bacchanal sign,
And the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.

I think of that night in the garden alone,

When in whispers you told me your heart was my own,
That your love in the future should faithfully be
Unshared by another, kept only for me.

Oh, sweet to my soul is the memory still,

Of the lips which met mine, when they murmured “I will;" But now to their pressure no more they incline,

For the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine!

O John! how it crushed me, when first in your face
The pen of the "Rum Fiend" had written "disgrace;"
And turned me in silence and tears from that breath
All poisoned and foul from the chalice of death.
It scattered the hopes I had treasured to last;
It darkened the future and clouded the past;
It shattered my idol, and ruined the shrine,

For the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
I loved you-Oh, dearer than language can tell,
And you saw it, you proved it, you knew it too well!
But the man of my love was far other than he
Who now from the "Tap-room" comes reeling to me:
In manhood and honor so noble and right-
His heart was so true, and his genius so bright-
And his soul was unstained, unpolluted by wine;
But the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
You promised reform, but I trusted in vain ;
Your pledge was but made to be broken again:
And the lover so false to his promises now,
Will not, as a husband, be true to his vow.
The word must be spoken that bids you depart

Though the effort to speak it should shatter my heart-
Though in silence, with blighted affection, I pine,
Yet the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine!

If one spark, in your bosom, of virtue remain,
Go fan it with prayer till it kindle again;
Resolved, with "God helping," in future to be
From wine and its follies unshackled and free!

And when you have conquered this foe of your soul,~
In manhood and honor beyond his control-
This heart will again beat responsive to thine,
And the lips free from liquor be welcome to mine.

SHORT SENSATIONAL STORY.

Sophia Saunders searchingly scrutinized Sarah, scowling severely.

Stephen Smith-Sarah's suitor-strong, splendidly sinewed, shapely Stephen, slept soundly.

Sophia spoke. She said Sarah should sell stale smelling soles,

Stephen snored.

Sophia spitefully shook Sarah.

66 Surrender!" said shre.

Sarah screamed shrilly.

Stephen seeing sweet Sarah's situation, stealing stealthily, suddenly squeezed Sophia's side; saying: "Stop such silly squabbles, such stupid strife; stop striking Sarah."

She staggered.

"So," sneered Sophia, “savage Stephen sneakingly supports Sarah! Seek safety-skedaddle !”

Stephen smiling satirically said: "Sarah shall sell stale soles, sweet Sophia, shall she ?"

"She shall!" shrieked Sophia.

So saying, Sophia Saunders strolled seaward stalking stiffly, selecting sloppy shingle spots. Slackening speed, she sat. Straightway she sentimentalized:

"See star-spangled sky; see sinking sun; see salt sea; see Sophia Saunders, spinster, Sarah's sister, spurned, slighted, scorned. So Sarah supposes selling stale soles sinful! Sacre! She shall see."

She stood still some seconds solemnly sea-surveying. Suddenly she said: "See Stephen so sneaking, so sanctimonious, so supremely stupid; see sister Sarah so sweetly seraphic, sweet Sunday school scholar, sublime sinner, see Sophia swim. Stephen, sister Sarah shall sell sweet solesto shall she starve."

Sarah shuddered.
Stephen sneezed.

Suddenly Sophia sprang screaming, splashing salt spray skyward.

"Save Sophia, Stephen! see, she sinks!" screamed Sarah. "Scarcely, sweetheart," said Stephen, sullenly.

So Sophia Saunders sank.

Sophia's suicide saved Sarah selling soles so stale. She systematically sold sweet soles. She survived Sophia several

summer seasons.

Sometimes she sang sad songs softly, sorrowing Sophia's sad suicide. Still she stayed single, scornfully spurning Stephen Smith's soft speeches.

Sole, a fish.

A LESSON FROM "THE FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT." ARRANGED FOR A SABBATH-SCHOOL EXERCISE BY P. GARRETT.*

This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.-Gal. v: 16.

SCHOOL.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.-Gal. v: 22, 23.

For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt LOVE thy neighbor as thyself.-Gal. v; 14.

SCHOOL.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down is life for his friends.-John, xv: 13.

Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.-Jokn, xv: 14.

SCHOOL.

He that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love.

I. John, iv: 8.

The Lord preserveth all them that love Him.-Psalm cxiv: 20.

(THE IMMORTALITY OF Love.)

They sin, who tell us love can die:
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity;
In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell;
Earthly these passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
But love is indestructible;

Its holy flame forever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,

At times deceived, at times oppressed,

*This combination of extracts and responsive readings can be rendered with very good effect by the teacher, or a leader, repeating the FINE PRINT and the school, or class, responding by giving the remaining portions, either in concert or singly, as the case may be.

The assignment of parts is given as a guide, but they can be changed to suit different cases, and any number of divisions and sub-divisions may be introduced. The extracts not assigned are intended for individual recitations.

Other extracts may be substituted for those given, and the number may be increased, or diminished, at pleasure. Singing can also be very readily interspersed throughout the exercise, if desirable.