Calm contemplation and poetic ease.
Even winter wild, to him, is full of bliss.
The mighty tempest, and the hoary waste,
Abrupt and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth,
Awake to solemn thought. At night, the skies
Disclos'd and kindled by refining frost,

Pour every lustre on the exalted eye.
A friend, a book, the stealing hours secure,
And mark them down for wisdom.

Akenside.

CONTENTMENT.

If solid happiness we prize,
Within ourselves this jewel lies,
And they are fools who roam.
The world has nothing to bestow,
From our own hearts our joys must flow,
Our bliss begins at home.

Let us, then, relish with content,
Whate'er kind Providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our pow'r :
And if our store of wealth be small,
With thankful hearts enjoy it all,
Nor lose the present hour.

To be resign'd, when ills betide,
Patient when favours are denied,

And pleas'd with favours given
This is the wise, the virtuous part,
This is that incense of the heart,

Whose fragrance reaches heav'n.

Thus crown'd with peace, thro' life we'll go,
Its chequer'd paths of joy and woe,
With cautious steps we'll tread;
Quit its vain scenes without a tear,
Without a trouble or a fear,
And mingle with the dead.

While conscience, like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,
And cheer our dying breath;
Shall, when all other comforts cease,
Like a kind angel whisper peace,
And smooth the bed of death.

Cotton.

TRANQUILLITY AND CONTENTMENT.

Happy the man, and he alone,
To whom the easy lot is given,
Cheerful to wait, and thankful own,

The gracious hand of bounteous heav'n.

Then solitude, or social joy,

Can please, yet not absorb his heart; Nor sorrow pain, nor care annoy,

His nobler, his immortal part.

His wish, his hope, his soul aspires
To a fair paradise above;

Yet patient waits, till heav'n requires
From worldly toil his blest remove.

Thus may our hopes and wishes rise,
Be our's serenity like this;

Till death's soft sleep shall close our eyes,
Then wake to light, and life, and bliss.

THE PROPER FOUNDATION OF CONTENTMENT.

God reigns-events in order flow,
Man's industry to guide;
But oft in various channels go,
To humble human pride.

Evil and good before him stand,
His mission to perform,

The blessing comes at his command,
At his command the storm.

O Lord! in all my ways I'll own
Thy providential power,
Intrusting to thy care alone,
The events of every hour.

Scott.

LESSON XX.

THE TWO APPLE TREES, OR INDUSTRY AND

IDLENESS.

On

A WEALTHY farmer had two sons, one of whom was just a year older than the other. the birth-day of the younger he had planted, just at the entrance of his orchard, two apple trees of equal age and size, which, from that time, he had cultivated with the same care, and which

them so

had profited by the care bestowed upon equally, that it was impossible to give the preference to either of them. When the children were old and strong enough to be able to handle garden tools, he placed them, one fine spring day, before the two trees which he had planted for them, and which he had named after them, Richard and Edward. When he had made them observe and admire their handsome trunks, and the profusion of blossoms with which they were covered, he said, “ You see, my sons, that I deliver these trees to you in good condition; they may gain as much by your attention as they may lose by your negligence. They will bear fruit in proportion to your labour and diligence."

The youngest, Edward, was unceasing and indefatigable in his attention to his tree. He was busied almost all day long in picking from it the caterpillars which were preying upon its leaves and blossoms. He propped up its stem with a pole that it might not grow crooked. He dug up the earth all around it, that the warmth of the sun and the humid dew might more easily penetrate to its roots. His mother had not been more careful of him in his tenderest infancy than he was of his young apple tree.

His brother Richard took a quite contrary course. He passed the whole day in clambering up a neighbouring hill, whence he threw stones at those who happened to pass near. He was always quarrelling and fighting with the little country boys who lived nigh enough to his father's house for him to get at them. His legs

were continually bruised and cut, and his face full of bumps and scratches, which he received in his squabbles.

In short, he so completely neglected his apple tree, that he never thought about it, till in autumn he saw Edward's tree so loaded with apples, striped with red and green, that, but for the props which supported its branches, the weight of the fruit would have bent it to the ground. Struck with the sight of this fine crop of fruit, he immediately ran to his own tree, with the hope of seeing that as well and as pleasantly loaded. But how great was his surprise to find nothing but branches covered with moss and a few yellowish leaves. Fired with jealousy and vexation, he ran to find his father, and as soon as he saw him he cried out, "What a good for nothing tree you have given me, father! It is as dry as a broom, and I sha'nt get a dozen apples from it this year. But as for my brother! Oh, you have treated him much better! You ought, at least, to make him share his apples with me." "Share his apples with you!" replied the father. "That would be injustice, and shameful injustice, indeed. What, let the diligent lose part of the recompense of his industry to reward the idle! You must bear your disappointment as you can, and suppress your envy, for it is the natural punishment of your negligence. So, you have no right to accuse me of partiality, when you see the abundant crop of apples on your brother's tree, and the barrenness of your own. You have to thank only yourself for this trouble. I warned you of what would

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