court the admiration they
are sure to win."

'But I was wrong.

'Pride had no place within their lowly hearts--never were their flowers
lifted up--their glances were ever bent in sweet humility towards the
green sod from which they had sprung, and, as I gazed upon them, I saw
that on each lovely petal there ever rested a tear.

'"Why this sadness?" I mused. "Surely so lovely and guileless a flower
can know no sorrow, since sorrow often goes hand in hand with sin; this
Crown Imperial must surely be as faultless as it is beautiful!"

'Yet I hesitated to ask the reason; there was a gentle and reserved
timidity about it, that checked all questionings. The cause of this
unspoken grief would be revealed to me sooner or later, I felt
convinced.

'The days passed on with sunshine and shadows, and, as the hours fled, I
saw with regret that stern Time had relentlessly breathed with his
withering breath upon my much-loved flower! Gradually and slowly its
blossoms pined, the lovely colours faded,--almost imperceptibly, 'tis
true, still they faded,--its fresh green crown became less purely
bright, and I knew with anguish my sweet one was dying.

'Then, and not till then, did it raise its faint eyes heavenward--they
were tearless now. I could restrain my wonder no more.

'"Why, oh, why wert thou weeping and gazing ever earthward when in thy
peerless beauty, sad and disconsolate--and now that thou art fading from
us thou art happy?" I asked in my sorrowful regret; perhaps reproach was
mingled with my complaint.

'"Is it not ever so?" the gentle flower replied. "Whilst burdened with
Life's sorrows, our eyes are tear-dimmed. The cares of this world press
heavily upon our hearts, so that we scarce can lift our thoughts from
this earth--cold and weary though it is--to gaze upward. It is only when
we are passing from all shadows into the Divine Light that we can look
heavenward, yet even then the tear-drops linger. But when earthly
sojourners have passed through the dark valley into the Eternal
Brightness, then, and only then, will they be freed from anguish; then,
and only then, will eyes be no longer dimmed by sorrow--for God Himself
shall wipe away all tears!"'

PARABLE SEVENTH.

THE TWO LEAVES--DISCONTENT.

Once upon a time, as the good old fairy tales always begin, there grew
by the side of a little brook a large Oak tree.

The brook was a bright, sunlit stream, gliding along so cheerfully to
join the river, be