The men soon dis-persed; but a boy, named Jo-seph, who was with them, sat down un-der a bush near by, to watch, and to be-stow un-a-vail-ing pit-y. The bird soon re-turned to her nest with-out food. The ea-glets at once set up a cry for food so shrill, so clear, and so clam-or-ous that the boy was great-ly moved. The par-ent bird seemed to try to soothe them; but their ap-pe-tites were too keen, and it was all in vain. She then perched her-self on a limb of the tree near them, and looked down in-to the nest with a look that seemed to say, "I know not what to do next."

Her in-de-cis-ion was but mo-ment-a-ry; a-gain she poised her-self, ut-tered one or two sharp notes, as if tell-ing them to lie still, bal-anced her bod-y, spread her wings, and was a-way a-gain for the sea! Jo-seph was de-ter-mined to see the re-sult. His eye fol-lowed her till she grew small-small-er-a mere speck in the skyand then dis-ap-peared.

She was gone near-ly two hours, a-bout doub-le her u-su-al time for a voy-age, when she a-gain re-turned on a slow, wea-ry wing, fly-ing un-com-mon-ly low, in or-der to have a heav-i-er at-mo-sphere to sus-tain her, with an-oth-er fish in her tal-ons.

On near-ing the field, she made a cir-cuit round it, to see if her en-e-mies were a-gain there. Find-ing the coast clear, she once more reached the tree, droop-ing, faint, and wea-ry, and ev-i-dent-ly near-ly ex-haust-ed. A-gain the ea-glets set up their cry, which was soon hushed by the dis-tri-bu-tion of a din-ner such as-save the cook-ing-a king might ad-mire.

"Glo-ri-ous bird!" cried the boy in ec-sta-sy, and a-loud. "What a spi-rit! Oth-er birds can fly swift-er; oth-ers can sing more sweet-ly; oth-ers scream more

loud-ly; but what oth-er bird, when per-se-cu-ted and robbed-when wea-ry-when dis-cour-aged-when so far from the sea-would do this!

"Glo-ri-ous bird! I will learn a les-son from thee to-day. I will nev-er for-get, here-af-ter, that when the spi-rit is de-ter-mined, it can do al-most an-y-thing. Oth-ers would have drooped, and hung the head, and mourned o-ver the cru-el-ty of man, and sighed o-ver the wants of the nest-lings; but thou, by at once re-cov-ering the loss, hast for-got-ten all.

"I will learn of thee, no-ble bird! I will re-mem-ber this. I will set my mark high. I will try to do something in the world; I will nev-er yield to dis-cour-agements."-Todd.

LESSON XCVII.-NOT AGAINST THE RULES.

In a cer-tain school such a case as this once oc-curred. A num-ber of lit-tle girls be-gan to a-muse them-selves du-ring play-time, with run-ning a-bout a-mong the desks in pur-suit of one an-oth-er; and they told their teach-er, in ex-cuse for it, that they did not know that it was "a-gainst the rules."

"It is not a-gainst the rules," said the teach-er; “I have never made an-y rule a-gainst run-ning a-bout a-mong the desks."

"Then," asked a boy, "did we do wrong ?"

"Do you think it would be a good plan," the teach-er in-quired, "to make it a com-mon a-muse-ment for the girls to hunt each oth-er a-mong the desks?"

"No!" they re-plied si-mul-ta-ne-ous-ly. "Why not?

There are some rea-sons.

I do not know, how-ev-er, wheth-er you will have the in-ge-nu-i-ty to think of them."

"We may o-ver-turn the desks," said one.

"Yes," said the teach-er; "they are very slight-ly fas-tened down, in or-der that I may eas-i-ly al-ter their po-si-tion."

"We might up-set the ink-stands," said an-oth-er. Some-times," ad-ded a third, 66 we might run a-gainst the scho-lars who are sit-ting in their seats."

"It seems, then, you have in-gen-u-i-ty e-nough to dis-cov-er rea-sons why you may not run a-bout; why did not these rea-sons pre-vent you from do-ing

So ?"

"We did not think of them be-fore."

“True; that is the ex-act state of the case. When per-sons are so ea-ger to pro-mote their own en-joy-ment as to for-get the rights and the com-forts of oth-ers, it is sel-fish-ness. Now, is there any rule in this school a-gainst sel-fish-ness?"

"You are right; there is not-but sel-fish-ness is wrong very wrong, in what-ev-er form it appears-here and ev-er-y-where else; and that, wheth-er I make rules a-gainst it or not."

"You see," con-tin-ued the teach-er, "that though there is but one rule of the school, I by no means in-tend to say that there is on-ly one way of do-ing wrong here. That would be ver-y ab-surd. You must not do an-y-thing which you may by pro-per re-flec-tion know to be in it-self wrong. This, how-ev-er, is a u-ni-ver-sal prin-ci-ple of du-ty. If I should at-tempt to make rules which would spec-i-fy and pro-hib-it ev-er-y pos-si-ble way by which you might do wrong, my laws would be in-nu-mer-a-ble, and e-ven then I should fail of se-cur-ing my object, un-less you had the dis-po-si-tion to do your du-ty. No

lég-is-la-tion could e-nact laws so fast as a per-vert-ed in-gen-u-i-ty might find means to e-vade them.

LESSON XCVIII.-A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

"Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, that shall be to all people."-LUKE ii. 10.

From heav-en a-bove to earth I come,
To bear good news to ev-er-y home;
Glad ti-dings of great joy I bring,
Where-of I now will say and sing:

To you this night is born a child,
Of Ma-ry, cho-sen moth-er mild;
This lit-tle child of low-ly birth
Shall be the joy of all the earth.
"Tis Christ our God, who, far on high,
Hath heard your sad and bit-ter cry;
Him-self will your sal-va-tion be;
Him-self from sin will make you free.

He brings those bles-sings, long a-go
Pre-pared by God for all be-low;
Hence-forth His king-dom o-pen stands
To you, as to the an-gel bands.

These are the to-kens ye shall mark,
The swad-dling clothes and man-ger dark;
There shall ye find the young child laid,
By whom the heav-ens and earth were made.

Now let us all with glad-some cheer
Fol-low the shep-herds, and draw near,

To see this won-drous gift of God,
Who hath His on-ly Son be-stowed.

Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!
Who is it in yon man-ger lies?

Who is this child so young and fair?
The bles-sed Christ-child li-eth there.

Wel-come to earth, thou no-ble Guest,
Through whom e'en wick-ed men are blest!
Thou com'st to share our mis-e-ry;
What can we ren-der, Lord, to Thee?

O Lord, who hast cre-a-ted all,

How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,
That Thou must choose Thy in-fant bed
Where ass and ox but late-ly fed?

Were earth a thou-sand times as fair,
Be-set with gold and jew-els rare;
She yet were far too poor to be
A nar-row cra-dle, Lord, for Thee.

For vel-vets soft, and silk-en stuff,

Thou hast but hay and straw so rough,
Where-on Thou King, so rich and great,
As 'twere Thy heav-en art throned in state.

Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain
The truth to us, poor fools and vain,
That this world's hon-our, wealth, and might,
Are naught and worth-less in Thy sight.

Ah, dear-est Je-sus, ho-ly child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, un-de-filed,
With-in my heart; that it may be
A qui-et cham-ber kept for Thee.

My heart for ver-y joy doth leap,
My lips no more can şi-lence keep;