MAY. 



77 



M. I never shall forget the instruction our 

 father gave me when I could hardly speak. I 

 was with him in the garden, admiring a bed 

 of splendid Tulips ; their gaudy colors attracted 

 my attention, and I wondered who it was that 

 could have given them their rich shades. I 

 innocently said, " Father, who painted the 

 Tulips? 55 He said, " My dear, it is God; 55 

 and then went on to tell how he had made all 

 things. His conversation so raised my curios- 

 ity, that I was incessantly asking him questions 

 about the great God. 



H. Let us never despise those who cannot 

 see the beauties we see. For while w r e have 

 had kind and tender parents, who took the 

 advantage of every incident and every thing to 

 enlighten and amuse us, — they have been 

 neglected by parents, who perhaps, had their 

 perceptions blunted by the too free use of the 

 polluting and degrading bottle. 



