Loves and atones evermore. So long as Time is, is Atonement.

Therefore with reverence receive this day her visible token.

Tokens are dead, if the things do not live. The light everlasting

Unto the blind man is not, but is born of the

that has vision.

eye

Neither in bread nor in wine, but in the heart that is hallowed,

Lieth forgiveness enshrined; the intention alone of amendment

Fruits of the earth ennobles to heavenly things, and removes all

Sin and the guerdon of sin. Only Love with his arms wide extended,

Penitence weeping and praying, the Will that is tried, and whose gold flows

Purified forth from the flames; in a word, mankind by Atonement

Breaketh Atonement's bread, and drinketh Atonement's wine-cup.

But he who cometh up hither, unworthy, with hate in his bosom,

Scoffing at men and at God, is guilty of Christ's blessed body

And the Redeemer's blood! To himself he eateth and drinketh

Death and doom! And from this preserve us,

thou heavenly Father!

Are ye ready, ye children, to eat of the bread of

Atonement?"

Thus with emotion he asked, and together answered the children,

Yes! with deep sobs interrupted. Then read he the due supplications,

Read the Form of Communion, and in chimed the organ and anthem :

"O Holy Lamb of God, who takest away our transgressions,

Hear us! give us thy peace! have mercy, have mercy upon us!"

The old man, with trembling hand, and heavenly pearls on his eyelids,

Filled now the chalice and paten, and dealt round the mystical symbols.

O, then seemed it to me, as if God, with the broad eye of mid-day,

Clearer looked in at the windows, and all the trees in the churchyard

Bowed down their summits of green, and the grass on the graves 'gan to shiver!

But in the children (I noted it well; I knew it) there ran a

Tremor of holy rapture along through their icycold members.

Decked like an altar before them, there stood the green earth, and above it

Heaven opened itself, as of old before Stephen; there saw they

Radiant in glory the Father, and on his right hand the Redeemer.

Under them hear they the clang of harpstrings, and angels from gold clouds

Beckon to them like brothers, and fan with their pinions of purple.

Closed was the teacher's task, and with heaven in their hearts and their faces

Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely,

Downward to kiss that reverend hand; but all of them pressed he,

Moved, to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of blessings,

Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses.

ARBP. TEGNER, Trans. by H. W. LONGFELLOW.

The Saviour Lives-and all is Well.

YE, who, with the silent tear

And saddened step, assemble here,
To bear these cold, these loved remains,
Where dark and cheerless silence reigns;
Your sorrows hush, your griefs dispel,
The Saviour lives,-and "all is well!"

Those eyes, indeed, are rayless now;
And pale that cheek, and chill that brow;
Yet, could that lifeless form declare
The joys its soul is called to share,
How would those lips rejoice to tell,

"The Saviour lives- and all is well!'

HINE.

The Good Old Man is Gone.

I SAW an aged man upon his bier,

His hair was thin and white, and on his brow A record of the cares of many a year ;—

Cares that were ended and forgotten now. And there was sadness round, and faces bowed, And woman's tears fell fast, and children wailed aloud.

Then rose another hoary man and said,

66

In faltering accents, to that weeping train, Why mourn ye that our aged friend is dead? Ye are not sad to see the gathered grain, Nor when their mellow fruit the orchards cast, Nor when the yellow woods shake down the ripened mast.

"Ye sigh not when the sun, his course fulfilled,

His glorious course, rejoicing earth and sky, In the soft evening, when the winds are stilled, Sinks where his islands of refreshment lie, And leaves the smile of his departure, spread O'er the warm-coloured heaven and ruddy mountain head.

"Why weep ye then for him, who, having won The bound of man's appointed years, at last, Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labours done, Serenely to his final rest has passed;

While the soft memory of his virtues, yet, Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set ?

"His youth was innocent: his riper age

Marked with some act of goodness every day; And watched by eyes that loved him, calm, and sage,

Faded his late declining years away.

Cheerful he gave his being up, and went

To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent.

"That life was happy; every day he gave

Thanks for the fair existence that was his;
For a sick fancy made him not her slave,
To mock him with her phantom miseries.
No chronic tortures racked his aged limb,
For luxury and sloth had nourished none for
him.

"And I am glad that he has lived thus long,
And glad that he has gone to his reward;
Nor can I deem that nature did him wrong,
Softly to disengage the vital cord.

For when his hand grew palsied, and his eye
Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to

die."

W. C. BRYANT.

Thy Call E Follow.

THOU great Arbiter of life and death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial Sun!

Whose all-prolific beam late call'd me forth
From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay