The low desire-the base design,

That makes another's virtues less, The revel of the giddy wine,

And all occasions of excess;

The longing for ignoble things,

The strife for triumph more than truth, The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth;

All thoughts of ill-all evil deeds,

That have their root in thoughts of ill, Whatever hinders or impedes

The action of the nobler will;

All these must first be trampled down
Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright field of fair renown
The right of eminent domain.

We have not wings-we cannot soarBut we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees-by more and more— The cloudy summits of our time.

The mighty pyramids of stone

That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen and better known,

Are but gigantic flights of stairs.

The distant mountains, that uprear

Their frowning foreheads to the skies,
Are crossed by pathways, that appear
As we to higher levels rise.

The heights by great men reached and kept,
Were not attained by sudden flight;
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.

Standing on what too long we bore
With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,
We may discern, unseen before,
A path to higher destinies.

Nor deem the irrevocable Past
As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If rising on its wrecks, at last,
To something nobler we attain.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

Fortiter

Fideliter

Feliciter

Discipline.

THE MESSENGER.

MESSENGER, that stood beside my

bed,

In words of clear and cruel import said, (And yet methought the tone was less unkind,)

"I bring thee pain of body and of mind.

"Each gift of each must pay a toll to me;
Nor flight, nor force, nor suit can set thee free;
Until my brother come, I say not when:
Affliction is my name, unloved of men."

I swoon'd, then, bursting up in talk deranged, Shatter'd to tears; while he stood by unchanged. I held my peace, my heart with courage burn'd, And to his cold touch one faint sigh return'd.

Undreamt-of wings he lifted, "For awhile

I vanish. Never be afraid to smile

Lest I waylay thee: curse me not; nay, love ;
That I may bring thee tidings from above."

And often since, by day or night, descends
The face obdurate; now almost a friend's.
Oh! quite to Faith; but Frailty's lips not dare
The word. To both this angel taught a prayer.

"Lord God, Thy servant, wounded and bereft, Feels Thee upon his right hand and his left ; Hath joy in grief, and still by losing gains;--All this is gone, yet all myself remains!"

W. ALLINGHAM.

"THOU IN FAITHFULNESS HAST

AFFLICTED ME.”

LORD in this dust Thy sovereign voice
First quickened love divine;

I am all Thine-Thy care and choice,
My very praise is Thine.

I praise Thee, while Thy providence
In childhood frail I trace,

For blessings given, ere dawning sense
Could seek or scan Thy grace;

Blessings in boyhood's marvelling hour; Bright dreams and fancyings strange; Blessings when reason's awful power Gave thought a bolder range;

Blessings of friends which to my door
Unasked, unhoped, have come;
And, choicer still, a countless store
Of eager smiles at home.

Yet, Lord, in memory's fondest place
I shrine those seasons sad,
When, looking up, I saw Thy face
In kind austereness clad.

I would not miss one sigh or tear,
Heart-pang, or throbbing brow;
Sweet was the chastisement severe,
And sweet its memory now.

Yes! let the fragrant scars abide,
Love-tokens in Thy stead,

Faint shadows of the spear-pierced side,
And thorn-encompassed head.

And such Thy tender force be still,
When self would swerve or stray;

Shaping to Truth the froward will

Along Thy narrow way.