at aught so lovely could be
unduly proud! Even the acknowledged queen of the garden, the stately
Rose, is gentle in her beauty; and 'Consider the lilies,' though
'Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed' like them, yet how meekly
they bloom beneath our feet!

Then shall the Crown Imperial tell its tale to you, and see what lesson
we can learn from it? No, an old yew tree shall relate the story. Listen
to what it says:--

'Many, many years have I stood on this spot, from the time that I was a
tiny sapling until now, when my branches spread far and wide, covering
the earth beneath with shadow. Summer sunshine has touched with its
fiercely scorching breath, and winter snows have shrouded me in fleecy
garments, but the old yew tree has weathered so far the storms of life,
growing year by year more twisted and gnarled as time passed on. I have
seen the song-birds come and depart; some have even built their nests
within my leafy branches. I have watched sweet flowers blossom, then
fade, but among the many lovely flowerets I have loved--for the old dry
tree has a tender heart, my children--there was one whose very
gentleness made me love it even yet more dearly. It was a Crown
Imperial.

'The spring was commencing to gladden the earth when first I perceived
it, forcing its way timidly through the soft grassy lawn of an old, old
garden. Who had placed the parent bulb beneath that turf was never
known, for the owners of the estate had passed with their generation
from the land, and strangers had come to reside in the ancient
homestead, but there was this fragile plant, outliving, as it were,
those who had planted it, and coming up, year after year, to gladden
other eyes than those which had first beheld its beauty--like good
actions and gentle words--imperishable!

'So day by day I watched it grow, stronger and stronger, higher and
higher, and, as it grew, spreading gradually its beautiful, shining
leaves; but when it had reached its full height, behold, it was crowned
with a diadem of the softest green--an emerald crown worthy the brow of
a queen!

'Then by degrees I saw its blossoms begin to unfold, the velvet petals
richer far than the feeble looms of man can weave; but, as they
unclosed, to my intense surprise, they were not uplifted to the
sunshine and blue sky, but meekly bowed--drooping earthward.

'"They will gaze upward by and by," I said to myself, "and, when they
know and feel the power of their beauty, will