really interested by music, twenty are pleased by good reading. Where one person is capable of becoming a skillful musician, twenty may become good readers. Where there is one occasion suitable for the exercise of musical talent, there are twenty for that of good reading. The culture of the voice necessary for reading well, gives a delightful charm to the same voice in conversation. Good reading is the natural exponent and vehicle of all good things. It is the most effective of all commentaries upon the works of genius. It seems to bring dead authors to life again, and makes us sit down familiarly with the great and good of all ages. Did you ever notice what life and power the Holy Scriptures have when well read? Have you ever heard of the wonderful effects produced by Elizabeth Fry on the criminals of Newgate, by simply reading to them the parable of the Prodigal Son? Princes and peers of the realm, it is said, counted it a privilege to stand in the dismal corridors, among felons and murderers, merely to share with them the privilege of witnessing the marvelous pathos which genius, taste, and culture could infuse into that simple story. What a fascination there is in really good reading! What a power it gives one! In the hospital, in the chamber of the invalid, in the nursery, in the domestic and in the social circle, among chosen friends and companions, how it enables you to minister to the amusement, the comfort, the pleasure of dear ones, as no other art or accomplishment can. No instrument of man's devising can reach the heart as does that most wonderful instrument, the human voice. It is God's special gift and endowment to his chosen creatures. Fold it not away in a napkin. If you would double the value of all your other acquisitions, if you would add immeasurably to your own enjoyment and to your power of promoting the enjoyment of others, cultivate, with incessant care, this divine gift. No music below the skies is equal to that of pure, silvery speech from the lips of a man or woman of high culture. THE CHAMELEON.-JAMES MERRICK. A FABLE FROM M. DE LA MOTTE. Oft has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark, With eyes, that hardly served at most To guard their master 'gainst a post, Yet round the world the blade has been To see whatever could be seen, Returning from his finished tour, Grown ten times perter than before; Whatever word you chance to drop, The traveled fool your mouth will stop; "Sir, if my judgment you'll allow, I've seen-and sure I ought to know," So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision. Two travelers of such a cast, As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed And on their way in friendly chat, Now talked of this, and then of that, Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter, Of the chameleon's form and nature. "A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never lived beneath the sun. A lizard's body, lean and long, A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its foot with triple claw disjoined: And what a length of tail behind! How slow its pace; and then its hueWho ever saw so fine a blue?" Hold, there," the other quick replies, "Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye!" "Green!" cries the other in a fury Why, sir!-d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss," the friend replies, “For, if they always serve you thus, So high at last the contest rose, "Sirs," cries the umpire, cease your pother! The creature's neither one nor t'other. I caught the animal last night, And viewed it o'er by candlelight: I marked it well-'twas black as jetYou stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet, And can produce it." Pray, sir, do: I'll lay my life the thing is blue." "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." "Well, then, at once to ease the doubt," Both stared, the man looked wondrous wise- LITTLE MARGERY. Kneeling, white-robed, sleepy eyes, Watching by the little bed, Dreaming of the coming years, Will the simple, trusting faith As the weary years go on, If your sweetest love shall fail, Should your life-path grow so dark To the light, my Margery? Will the woman, folding down 66 God, my Father, knows the rest, True, my darling, life is long, And its ways are dark and dim; But God knows the path you tread; I can leave you safe with Him, Always, little Margery. He will keep your childish faith, You have taught a lesson sweet THE MIGHT OF LOVE.-ALICE CARY. "There is work, good man, for you to-day!" So the wife of Jamie cried, "For a ship at Garl'ston, on Solway, "And, lassie, would you have me start, "But, Jamie, be not, till ye try, And far and near the men were pressed, And while the outward-flowing tide The ship's mate from the beach-belt cried : "Her hull is heeling toward the side Where the men are at work below!" And the cartmen, wild and open-eyed, Like dead leaves in the sudden swell Thank God, thank God, the peril's past! |