THE DOVE.

DOVE is quite a common sight to children living in the country- and a great many boys and girls could write very interesting compositions about its beauty, its quiet ways, and its contented life. They could weave into their thoughts, also, that beautiful story of olden times about the dove that was once sent forth from an ark, at a time when the whole of the Earth's surface was covered with water, to see if she could find a resting place "for the sole of her foot; " and how at first she could find none, but going forth again, after seven days resting in the ark, she returned at evening" and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off;" so the people in the ark knew that the waters had abated. Well, ever since that time, almost, the olive leaf, or branch, has meant victory just as the dry land gained a victory over the water,— and the Dove has been the symbol of Peace- just as peace and happiness came to the dwellers shut up in the storm-tossed ark on the top of the mountain. Now what more pleasant celebration can happy children have, than to read and talk and sing about the glory and prosperity which comes to a nation that is at peace with all the world? Let us talk about the sword and cruel war when we must because our country is in peril; but let the songs of Peace and its praises be ever upon our lips, until

"The war-drums beat no longer,

And the battle-flags are furled

In the Parliament of Man,

The Federation of the World."

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SELECTIONS.

There is a story told

In Eastern tents, when autumn nights grow cold,
And round the fire the Mongol shepherds sit

With grave responses listening unto it;
Once, on the errands of his mercy bent,
Buddha, the holy and benevolent,

Met a fell monster, huge and fierce of look,
Whose awful voice the hills and forests shook.
"O son of Peace!" the giant cried, "thy fate
Is sealed at last, and love shall yield to hate."
The unarmed Buddha looking, with no trace
Of fear or anger, in the monster's face,

With pity said: "Poor fiend, even thee I love."
Lo! as he spake, the sky-tall terror sank

To hand-breadth size; the huge abhorrence shrank
Into the form and fashion of a dove;
And where the thunder of its rage was heard,
Brooding above him sweetly sang the bird;
"Hate hath no harm for love," so ran the song,
And peace unweaponed conquers every wrong!"

-John Greenleaf Whittier.

It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there was at least one spot, the small island of Delos, dedicated to the gods, and kept at all times sacred from war. No hostile foot ever sought to press this kindly soil; and the citizens of all countries here met, in common worship, beneath the aegis of inviolable peace. So let us dedicate our beloved country; and may the blessed consecration be felt in all its parts, throughout its ample domain! The TEMPLE OF HONOR shall be surrounded here at last, by the Temple of Concord, that it may never more be entered by any portal of war; the horn of abundance shall overflow at its gates; the angel of religion shall be the guide over its steps of flashing adamant; while within its enraptured courts, purged of violence and wrong, JUSTICE, returning to earth from her long exile in the skies, with mighty scales for nations as for men, shall rear her serene and majestic front; and by her side, greatest