As well might the

end of worldly wishes for worldly riches. sow be supposed to get enough of wallowing in the mire, as for a mortal to be satisfied with the rolling in the carrion of wealth. So false are your ideas of the means to obtain happi ness, that you would, if you could, coax angels from the skies to rob them of the jewels in their diadems. I havn't the least doubt of it.

3. My dear friends, I will tell you how to enjoy as much bliss as heaven can afford to human. Be contented with what you have no matter how poor it is, until you have an opportunity to get something better. Be thankful for every crumb that falls from the table of Providence, and live in constant expectation of having the luck to pitch upon a whole loaf. Have patience to put up with present troubles, and console yourselves with the idea that your situations are paradises compared with others.

4. When you have enough to eat to satisfy hunger, enough to drink to quench thirst, enough to wear to keep you decent and comfortable, just enough of what is vulgarly called "tin" to procure you a few luxuries, when you owe no one, and no one owes you, not even a grudge, then if you are not happy, all the gold in the universe cannot make you so.

5. A man much wiser than I, once said, give me neither poverty nor riches; and I look upon him as one of the greatest philosophers the world ever produced. All he wanted was a contented mind, sufficient bread and cheese, and a clean shirt. Take pattern after him, O ye disconcerted mortals, who vainly imagine that bliss is to be found in the palaces of wealth and opulence.

6. My hearers, if you consider all creation too poor to afford you a single penny-worth of true blessedness, you must pray to be reconciled to its poverty. Grease your prayers

with faith, and send them up in earnestness, hot from the soul's This manufacturing cold petitions with the lips, while

oven.

the heart continually cries gammon, is of no more use than talking Choctaw to Chinese.

7. Heaven understands no gibberish; it knows only the pure, simple language of the spirit-the soul's vernacular. So, when you pray, do it in as simple a manner as possible, but with red hot earnestness, and your souls will find rest wherever you are --whether nibbling at a crust in Poverty Hollow, or half starving in California, while endeavoring to transmogrify a bag of gold dust into an Indian meal pudding.

LESSON XXIX.

ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER.

MBS. GILMAN.

1. WILL WAG went to see Charley Quirk,
More famed for his books than his knowledge,
In order to borrow a work

He had sought for in vain over college.

2. But Charley replied, "My dear friend,
You must know I have sworn and agreed,
My books from my room not to lend,
But you may sit by my fire and read.

3. Now it happened by chance on the morrow,
That Quirk, with a cold, quivering air,
Came, his neighbor Will's bellows to borrow,
For his own they were out of repair.

4. But Willy replied, "My dear friend,

That

I have sworn and agreed, you must know,
my bellows I never will lend,
But you may sit by my fire and blow."

LESSON XXX.

ORATOR PUFF.

ANONYMOUS.

1. MR. ORATOR PUFF had two tones in his voice,
The
one, squeaking thus, and the other down so;
In each sentence he utter'd he gave you your choice,
For one half was B alt, and the rest G below.
Oh! oh! Orator Puff,

One voice for an orator's surely enough.

2. But he still talked away, spite of coughs and of frowns, So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs, That a wag once, on hearing the orator say,

"My voice is for war," ask'd him, "Which of them, pray?" Oh! oh! &c.

3. Reeling homeward one evening, top-heavy with gin, And rehearsing his speech on the weight of the crown, He tripp'd near a saw-pit, and tumbled right in,

"Sinking fund," the last words as his noddle came down. Oh! oh! &c.

4. "Good Lord!" he exclaimed, in his he-and-she tones, "Help me out! help me out! I have broken my bones!" "Help you out?" said a Paddy, who pass'd, "what s bother!

Why, there's two of you there; can't you help one another?"

Oh! oh! Orator Puff,

One voice for an orator's surely enough.

LESSON XXXI.

THE GRAHAM SYSTEM.

ANONYMOUS.

1. On! wondrous age, surpassing ages past! When mind is marching at a quick-step pace; When steam and politics are flying fast,

When roads to rails, and wine to tea give place;

When great reformers race, and none can stay 'emOh! Jackson, Tappan, Symmes, Sam Patch and Graham! 2. The last shall be the first-'twere shame to think

That thou, starvation's monarch, could'st be beaten;
Who proved that drink was never made to drink,
Nor food itself intended to be eaten :

That Heaven provided for our use instead,
The sand and saw-dust which compose thy bread.
3. A startling truth!—we question while we stare
A ling'ring doubt still haunts the imagination,
That God ne'er meant to stint us in our fare;

No doubt a prejudice of education;

For fact is fact-this ought to make us humble—
Our brains confess it, though our stomachs grumble.

4. But why on us pursue thy cruel plan?

Oh, why condemn us thus to bread and water?
Perchance thou countest all the race of man,

As rogues and culprits who deserve no quarter;
And 'tis thy part to punish, not to spare,
By putting us upon state-prison fare.

5. All flesh is poison, in thy sapient eyes;

No doubt thou'rt right, and all mankind are wrong; But still, in spite of us, the thought will rise,

How, eating poison, men have lived so long;

Mayhap thou meanest a slow poison, then,
Which takes effect at three-score-years-and-ten.

6. Our table treasures vanish one by one,

Beneath thy wand, like Sancho's, they retire;
Now steaks are rare, and mutton-chops are done,
Veal's in a stew, the fat is in the fire;
Fish, flesh, and fowl are ravish'd in a trice-
"Insatiate Graham! could not one suffice?"

7. When wine was banished by the cruel fates,
Oh, gentle tea, for thee I trembled then;
"The cup which cheers but not inebriates,"
Not even thou must grace our boards again!
Imperial is dethroned, as I forboded;
Bohea is dish'd, gunpowder is exploded!

8. Venison is vile, a cup of coffee curst,

And food that's fried, or fricasseed, forgot; Duck is destruction, wine of woes is worst, Clams are condemned, and poultry's gone to pot; Pudding and pork are under prohibition, Mustard is murder, pepper is perdition!

9. But dread'st thou not some famished foe may rise, With vengeful arm, and break thy daring jaw? Thou robber of our vitals' best supplies,

Beware! "there is no joking with the maw," Nor hope the world will in thy footsteps follow, Thy bread and doctrine are too hard to swallow.

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