as to be recalled and uttered in moments when the will was powerless to reject them. 5. Think of this, ye who are tempted to use, or even to hear, improper language. Remember that the knowledge of wickedness is not wisdom. "It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme CLEON hath a million acres, ne'er a one have I; But the poorer of the twain is not a penny, I; Cleon, and not I. Cleon, true, possesseth acres, but the landscape, I; He in velvet, I in fustian,E Cleon is a slave to grandeur, free as thought am I; - happier man am I. Cleon fees a score of doctors, need of none have I. State for state, with all attendants, who would change? Not I LXV. THE BLIND GIRL. C. Mackay 1. In a stage-coach, where late I chanced to be, A little, quiet girl my notice caught; I saw she looked at nothing by the way, Her mind seemed busy on some childish thought. 2. I, with an old man's courtesy, addressed 3. The child, and called her pretty, dark-eyed maid. The wide-extended prospect. Sir," she said, Never did tongue of child utter a sound Her mother then related how she found 4. "I'll do it when 't is daylight, if you please; Miss Lamb. THE HEROINE OF SIBERIA. LXVI. Prascovie Lopouloff (pronounced, Pras'ko-vee Lō'pooloff) was the real name of a girl who, about the year 1795, made her way, many hundreds of miles, from Siberia to St. Petersburg, to beg the Emperor of Russia to release her father from exile. She was eighteen months in making the journey. Siberia is a part of the Russian empire, and one of the coldest countries in the world. The adventures of Prascovie have been made the subject of a popular story, entitled "Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia," by Madame Cottin, a French lady. The incidents of the following dialogue between Prascovie and the Empress, at St. Petersburg, are strictly true. Empress. COME nearer to me, child. Sit by my side. I wish to hear more of your story. What first prompted you to this undertaking? Did your father urge it? Prascovic. O, no! lady. My father opposed it strongly. It was long before I could get his consent. But I prayed to Heaven that he might be made to yield, and, at length, my prayer was granted, and I set forth on my way with a glad heart. Emp. And was your mother equally opposed to your enterprise? Pras. At first she laughed at me for what she called my wild scheme; but, after a year or two, seeing that I did not give it up, she believed that Heaven had put the thought into my mind, and so she began to favor it. Emp. But how could you suppose you would be able to gain access to the emperor? You were very poor, and without friends. How did you expect to get a hearing? Pras. I believed that God would raise up friends to a daughter whose object was to save her parents from exile and despair. I had faith in his protection, and it never failed me. Emp. But did you encounter no adventures on your long and dangerous journey? Were you never in peril? Pras. O, yes! I was twice taken ill, and once came near being drowned. On one occasion I arrived late at a village, and sought a lodging in vain. At last an old man, who had previously repulsed me, followed and invited me into his hut. There I found an old woman. But both these people had a bad expression of countenance, which alarmed me. The woman closed the door silently and securely, after I had seated myself. They asked me whither I was going. I told them to St. Petersburg; on which the man remarked that I must have plenty of money about me, to be able to undertake so long a journey. I told them what was true, that I had only a few ko-pēcks'; but they, in a harsh manner, accused me of lying. EI Emp. Dear child, were you not greatly terrified? These people must have been robbers. How did you support yourself under such a peril? Pras. They told me to go to bed. I did so; but took care to leave my wallet exposed, so that they might see I had told the truth, if they chose to examine it. About midnight I was roughly awakened, and saw the old woman standing over me. My blood ran cold. My blood ran cold. She had examined the wallet, and been disappointed on finding it so empty. I begged hard for my life; and protested that I had no more money. But the old woman, without replying, searched my dress, and made me take off my boots, that she might look also into them. The old man held a light while the search was going on. Finding that all was in vain, they left me. Emp. Did you not at once try to make your escape? How did you know that they might not attempt some serious violence — angry at not finding anything worth stealing upon your person? Pras. At first I thought of trying to make my escape. But then, dear lady, I remembered that God had protected me thus far, and I fully believed he would continue to care for me. I prayed to him fervently. I prayed for my parents for myselffor the wicked old man and woman in whose hut I was - and, at last, I sank into a sweet sleep. When I awoke in the morning, the sun was shining brightly in at the frosty window, gilding the icicles and gleaming on the snow. The old man and woman were bustling about to get breakfast. Expecting cruel treatment, I descended fearfully to the floor. What was my surprise on being kindly greeted by the old woman with, "Well, dear, have you had a nice sleep?" I told them I had slept well, and now wished to go. they begged me to sit down and take some soup. But Emp. It was a trick to poison you, I fear; and their good-humor was feigned, most like. I hope you did not eat anything. Pras. Indeed, but I did, dear lady; I ate heartily, for I was very hungry. The old people questioned me, and I told them my whole story; how I had left Ischim without money, and was begging my way to St. Petersburg, to entreat the emperor to release my father from exile. Will you believe it, dear lady? I saw the tears come into the eyes of these old people, as they listened to my story. The old woman drew me aside, and begged me to forget what had happened. "Think it was a dream," she said. "Your goodness and pitiable condition softened our hearts; and you will find, when you next count your money, that we are not the people you take us for.” They both kissed me, and I både them good-by. After I had walked a few miles I had the curiosity to open my wallet, and found, to my astonishment, that they had added forty ko-pecks' to my little stock. And yet, this wretched. old couple, as I afterwards learned, had the character of being robbers. Emp. Your artless manner and affecting errand melted even their sinful, stubborn hearts; or, it may have been that your prayer for them was not unheard in heaven; and that a seed of redeeming goodness was planted in their souls, and watered by those tears which you made them shed. Pras. I will hope it. But tell me, dear lady, is there any hope for my father? When will his case have a hearing? O how encouraged he will be when he learns that I have been admitted here, into the imperial palace,— and treated kindly by the empress herself! Emp. I have delightful news for you, my child. This paper, which I hold in my hand, is an order from the emperor for your father's release, and for the payment to him of a sum of money sufficient to defray the expense of his journey to the interior of Russia. There! Take a glass of water, dear. Do not faint with joy. Bear up! bear up! 39 Osborne. LXVII. THE LYING SERVANT. PART I. 1. THERE lived in Suabia" a certain lord, pious, just and wise; to whose lot it fell to have a serving-man, a great rogue, and above all much addicted to the vice of lying |