Cam-el, thou dost turn thine eye
On him kind-ly, sooth-ing-ly,
As if thou wouldst, cheer-ing, say,
" Journey on for this one day-
Do not let thy heart des-pond!
There is wa-ter yet be-yond !
I can scent it in the air
Do not let thy heart des-pair!"
And thou guid'st the trav-el-ler there.

Cam-el, thou art good and mild,
Do-cile as a little child;

Thou wast made for use-ful-ness,
Man to com-fort and to bless.
And the des-ert wastes must be
Un-tracked re-gi-ons but for thee !

Mrs. Howitt.

LESSON XLIX.--SUGAR. Sug-ar is the juice of a cane cul-ti-va-ted in the West In-dies. It is very tall; grow-ing from ten to twen-ty feet high, with a knot-ted stem. The canes are cut down, and the juice is squeezed out and boiled with a little lime in it. As it boils, the scum which ri-ses to the top is care-ful-ly ta-ken off, and as soon as the liq-uid is clear, it is poured into shal-low pans, to cool and hard-en. When the sug-ar has cooled into grains or crys-tals, it is put into large casks. The mo-las-ses, or moist part re-main-ing, is drained off, and the sug-ar is then ready for ex-por-ta-tion.

Sug-ar grows in very hot coun-tries, where Eng-lish peo-ple could not work in the fields. The heat would soon kill them, if they were ex-posed to it. Sug-ar is made by ne-groes, who first came from Af-ri-ca. Shall I tell you how they used to get the ne-groes? It is a sad story of cru-el-ty and in-jus-tice. Ships went to Af-ri-ca, and the poor Af-ri-cans were caught, torn away from their coun-try, crowd-ed into the ships, and carried away to the West In-dies, where they were sold -by the bad men who had sto-len them—to the sug-ar planters. The mas-ters who bought them, made them work all day be-neath the burn-ing sun, and of-ten cru-el-ly flogged them, if their tasks were not fin-ished. This dread-ful traf-fic was called the slave-trade. A few years ago, Eng-lish-men be-gan to feel how wick-ed it was to keep men as slaves, and a law was passed, ma-king all the slaves free. Oh, what joy for them!

The is-lands, which were so full of suf-fer-ing and sor-row, are now filled with a hap-py, in-dus-tri-ous peo-ple. Good men have gone to teach the ne-groes a-bout God, and a-bout Je-sus Christ who died to save them, and many of them have be-come true Chris-tians.

In some coun-tries the poor Af-ri-cans are still bought and sold. Do you not hope that the day will soon come when they shall all be set free. and there shall be no more slaves ? “For God hath made of one blood all na-tions of men."

LESSON L.-SWARTZ. Swartz was a mis-sion-a-ry, that is, one who left his own coun-try to preach the Gos-pel to the hea-then. He died at the age of sev-en-ty-two, hav-ing been a mission-a-ry for-ty-eight years in India. He had such a high cha-rac-ter among the hea-then, that he was suffered to pass through sav-age and law-less tribes un-molest-ed. They said, “ Let him a-lone,-let him pass,

he is a man of God!" A ty-rant, named Hy-der Al-ly, while he re-fused to en-ter into a trea-ty with oth-ers, said, “Send me Swartz ;-send me the Chris-tian mission-a-ry to treat with me, for him on-ly can I trust." The peo-ple had been so cru-el-ly used, that they left their lands and re-fused to raise any-thing. All they had raised had been seized and ta-ken away. The whole coun-try would soon have been in a fam-ine. The hea-then ru-ler prom-ised jus-tice, and tried to in-duce them to go back to their farms; but all in vain. They would not be-lieve him. Swartz then wrote to them, ma-king the same prom-ises. Seven thou-sand men re-turned to their land in one day.

When he came to die, he lay for a time ap-pa-rent-ly life-less. Ge-ricke, a wor-thy fel-low la-bour-er from the same coun-try, sup-pos-ing he was ac-tu-al-ly dead, be-gan to chant over his re-mains a stan.za of the fa-vour-ite hymn which they used to sing to-geth-er, to soothe each oth-er in his life-time. The vers-es were sung through, with-out a mo-tion or a sign of life from the still form be-fore him; but when the last clause was o-ver, the voice which was sup-posed to be hushed in death took up the second stan-za of the same hymn,-com-ple-ted it with a dis-tinct and sweet ut-ter-ance,--and then was hushed,—and was heard no more. The soul rose with the last strain.

How sweet-ly death comes to a good man, who has faith-ful-ly served Je-sus Christ !-Todd.

LESSON LI.THE EAGLE AND CHILD. There are many high hills in Scot-land, which are called Ben. The high-est of all is Ben Nev-is. On the taps of these Bens ea-gles build their nests. What nests

they are! flat like a floor, and very strong; the great sticks are of-ten placed be-tween two high rocks that hang over a deep place.

The ea-gles of-ten car-ry off the hares and rab-bits to their nests, and some-times young lambs.

It is said that once, while peo-ple were ma-king hay in a field, a great ea-gle saw a babe ly-ing a-sleep on a bun-die of hay, and dart-ing down from a-bove, seized it with its great claws, and flew away. All the peo-ple, in a-larm, hur-ried off to-wards the moun-tains, where they knew this ea-gle had built its nest, and there they could just see the two old birds on the ledge of the rock.

Many cried, and wrung their hands in sor-row for the dear babe, but who would try to save it? There was a sail-or, who was used to climb the tall masts of the ships, and he be-gan to climb the steep sides of the moun-tain. But he had on-ly gone a few steps, when the moth-er start-ed up from the rough stone where she had been sit-ting, looked up at the ea-gle's nest, and be-gan to mount the rock her-self. Though only a poor weak wom-an, she soon got before the sail-or, and sprang from rock to rock, and when she could find no place for her feet, she held fast by the roots and the plants growing on the moun-tain. It was won-der-ful to see how she made her way. Her love to her babe strength-ened her limbs, and God kept her feet from slip-ping. Every one looked ea-ger-ly at her, as she reached the top; they feared lest the fierce birds should hurt her,—but no— when she came into their nest, they screamed, and flew away. There the moth-er found her babe ly-ing a-mong the bones of an-i-mals, and stained with their blood; but the ea-gles had not be-gun to eat it, nor had they hurt a hair of its head. The mother bound it with her

shawl tight round her waist, and then be-gan quick-ly to de-scend, and this was far more dif-fi-cult than it had been to get up.

But where was the sail-or all this while ? He had on-ly got up a little way, and then his head had grown gid-dy, and he had been forced to re-turn.

See the fond moth-er, with her babe in her bo-som, sli-ding down the rock, hold-ing tiow by the yel-low broom, and now by the prick-ly bri-ar, and getting safe-ly down pla-ces as steep as the sides of a house. When she had got half way down, she saw a goat lead-iñg its two kids into the val-ley; she knew that it would take its little ones along the ea-si-est path, and she fol-lowed the crea-ture, till she met her friends com-ing up the mountain to meet her. How glad they were to see her a-gain amongst them! Many a mother wished to hold the babe in her arms. How inuch they won-dered to find the ea-gle's claws had not tori its ten-der flesh!

What will not a mother do to save lier child! I hope this little babe, when it grew old-er, loved the kind moth-er who had climbed up the steep rock, to save it from the ea-gle's crü-el claws and blood-ý beak.-—~ Near Home."

old the bn amongst the her. Howeglatlends

LESSON LII.—THE MÀRMOT. Look at that lit-tle crea-ture. Is it a hare? No, it is much stout-er than a hare; be-sides, it has not long ears like a hare. Is it a squir-rel ? No, it is much big-ger than a squir-rel, and it has not a long tail like a squirrel. Yet it is very much like a squir-rel in its way of eat-ing. See, it is now sit-ting up, and hold-ing an ap-ple be-tween its fore-paws. Here, lit-tle fel-low, is a

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