the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me; and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame; I was a father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not I searched out.

"Did not I weep for, him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in an even balance, that God may know mine integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man-servant or of my maid-servant, when they contended with me, what then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did not he that made me make him also?

"If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have caused the eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten there of; if I have seen any perish for want of clothing, or any poor without covering; if his loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep; if I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, when I saw my help in the gate; then let mine arm fall from my shoulder-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone.

"I rejoiced not at the destruction of him that hated me, nor lifted up myself when evil found him; neither have ĺ suffered my mouth to sin, by wishing a curse to his soul. The stranger did not lodge in the street; but I opened my doors to the traveller. If my land cry against me, or the furrows thereof complain; if I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or have caused the owners thereof to lose their life; let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockles instead of barley."

LESSON VII.

An uncharitable Spirit rebuked.-RABBINICAL.

AND it came to pass, after these things, that Abraham sat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the sun. And behold, a man, bent with age, came from the way of the wilderness, leaning on a staff! And Abraham arose, and met him, and said unto him, "Turn in, I pray thee. and wash thy feet, and tarry all night; and thou shalt arise

early in the morning, and go on thy way." And the man said, "Nay; for I will abide under this tree."

But Abraham pressed him greatly: so he turned, and they went into the tent: and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, "Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and earth?" And the man answered, and said, "I do not worship thy God, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myself a god, which abideth always in my house, and provideth me with all things."

And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he arose, and fell upon him, and drove him forth, with blows, into the wilderness. And God called unto Abraham, saying, "Abraham, where is the stranger?" And Abraham answered, and said, "Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the wilderness."

And God said, "Have I borne with him these hundred and ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?"

LESSON VIII.

Paraphrase of the Nineteenth Psalm.-ADDISON.

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim :

The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty Hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,-
And nightly, to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth* ·

* Pron. běrth.

Whilst all the stars, that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings, as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in solemn silence, all'
Move round this dark terrestrial ball!
What though nor real voice, nor sound,
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
"The Hand that made us is Divine."

LESSON IX.

Morning Meditations.-HAWKESWORTH.

IN sleep's serene oblivion laid,
I've safely passed the silent night;
Again I see the breaking shade,
Again behold the morning light.

New-born, I bless the waking hour;

Once more, with awe, rejoice to be; My conscious soul resumes her power, And soars, my guardian God, to thee.

O guide me through the various maze

My doubtful feet are doomed to tread; And spread thy shield's protecting blaze Where dangers press around my head.

A deep shade shall soon impend

A deeper sleep mine eyes oppress :-
Yet then thy strength shall still defend;
Thy goodness still delight to bless.

That deeper shade shall break away;
That deeper sleep shall leave mine eyes;

Thy light shall give eternal day;

Thy love, the rapture of the skies.

LESSON X.

Nature's Music.-ANONYMOUS.

NAY, tell me not of lordly halls!
My minstrels are the trees;

The moss and the rock are my tapestried walls,
Earth's sounds my symphonies.

There's music sweeter to my soul

In the weed by the wild wind fanned, In the heave of the surge, than ever stole From mortal minstrel's hand.

There's mighty music in the roar

Of the oaks on the mountain's side, When the whirlwind bursts on their foreheads hoar, And the lightning flashes wide.

There's music in the city's hum,
Heard in the noontide glare,

When its thousand mingling voices come
On the breast of the sultry air.

There's music in the forest stream,
As it plays through the deep ravine,*
Where never summer's breath or beam
Has pierced its woodland screen.

There's music in the thundering sweep
Of the mountain waterfall,

As its torrents struggle, and foam, and leap
From the brow of its marble wall.

There's music in the dawning morn,

Ere the lark his pinion dries

In the rush of the breeze through the dewy corn,
Through the garden's per'fumed dyes.

There's music on the twilight cloud,
As the clanging wild swans spring;
As homeward the screaming ravens crowd,
Like squadrons on the wing.

* Pron. ra-veen'.

There's music in the depth of night,
When the world is still and dim,

And the stars flame out in their pomp of light,
Like thrones of the cherubim!

LESSON XI.

Religious Contemplation of the Works of God.-MOODIE.

CONTEMPLATE the great scenes of nature, and accustom yourselves to connect them with the perfections of God. All vast and unmeasurable objects are fitted to impress the soul with awe. The mountain, which rises above the neighbouring hills, and hides its head in the sky; the sounding, unfathomed, boundless deep; the expanse of heaven, where, above, and around, no limit checks the wondering eye; these objects fill and elevate the mind-they produce a solemn frame of spirit, which accords with the sentiment of religion.

From the contemplation of what is great and magnificent in nature, the soul rises to the Author of all. We think of the time which preceded the birth of the universe, when. no being existed but God alone. While unnumbered systems arise in order before us, created by his power, arranged by his wisdom, and filled with his presence, the earth, and the sea, with all that they contain, are hardly beheld amidst the immensity of his works. In the boundless subject the soul is lost. "It is he who sitteth on the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers. He weigheth the mountains in scales. He taketh up the isles as a very little thing. Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him!"

Pause for a while, ye travellers on the earth, to contem'plate the universe in which you dwell, and the glory of him who created it. What a scene of wonders is here

presented to your view! If beheld with a religious eye, what a temple for the worship of the Almighty! The earth is spread out before you, reposing amidst the desolation of winter, or clad in the verdure of the spring; smiling in the beauty of summer, or loaded with autumnal fruit; opening, to an endless variety of beings, the treasures of their