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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 lift 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 Sou? 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 immeasurablv 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 Farle—From M. De Lamotte.
Oft has it been my lot to mark
Two travelers of such a cast,
"Hold, there," the other quick replies,
"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,
"Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye!" "Green!" cries the other in a fury— "Why, sir!—d'ye think I've lost my eves?" "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies,
Will the wimple, trusting faith
Always be so clear and bright?
As the weary years go on,
But a woman, trouble-worn,
If your sweetest love shall fail,
Will you bow to meet the blow,
Should your life-path grow so dark
Will you lay your hand in His,
Will the woman, folding down
Whisper, with her old belief,
"God, my Father, knows the rest,
True, my darling, life is long,
But God knows the path you tread;
He will keep your childish faith,
Shining ever strong and bright,
You have taught a lesson sweet
We pray in snatches, ask a part,