14.-TEACHING FROM THE STARS.-Jane Taylor.

1 Stars, that on your wondrous way travel through the evening sky, is there nothing you can say to such a little child as I? Tell me, for I long to know, who has made you sparkle so? 2 Yes, methinks I hear you say, "Child of mortal race, attend; while we run our wondrous way, listen; we would be your friend; teaching you that Name Divine, by whose mighty word we shine. 3 Child, as truly as we roll through the dark and distant sky, you have an immortal soul; born to live, when we shall die! Suns and planets pass away; spirits never can decay. 4 When some thousand years at most, all their little time have spent, one by one our sparkling host shall forsake the firmament. We shall from our glory fall; you must live beyond us all. 5 Yes; and God, who bade us roll,-God, who hung us in the sky,―stoops to watch an infant's soul with a condescending eye; and esteems it dearer far, more in value, than a star! 6 Oh, then, while your breath is given, let it rise in fervent prayer; and beseech the God of heaven to receive your spirit there ;-like a living star, to blaze ever to your Saviour's praise!"

15.-DIFFERENCE OF COLOUR.-Anon.

God gave to Afric's sons a brow of sable dye,

And spread the country for their birth beneath a burning sky:
And with a cheek of olive, made the little Hindoo child;

And darkly stained the forest tribes that roam the western wild.

To me he gave a form of fairer, whiter clay;

But am I, therefore, in His sight respected more than they?
No, 'tis the hue of deeds and thoughts He traces in His book;
'Tis the complexion of the heart on which He deigns to look.
Not by the tinted cheek that fades away so fast,
But by the colour of the soul we shall be tried at last;
And God, the Judge, will look at me with anger in His eyes,
If I my brother's darker brow should ever dare despise.

16.-MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH.-Gilman.
"Mother, how still the baby lies! I cannot hear his breath;
I cannot see his laughing eyes;-they tell me this is death.
My little work I thought to bring, and sat down by his bed,
And pleasantly I tried to sing;—they hushed me—he is dead!
They say that he again will rise, more beautiful than now;
That God will bless him in the skies-oh, mother tell me how !"

"Daughter, do you remember, dear, the cold, dark thing you brought,
And laid upon the casement here—a withered worm, you thought?
I told you, that Almighty power could break that withered shell,
And show you, in a future hour, something would please you well.
Look at the chrysalis, my love,—an empty shell it lies;

Now raise your wondering glance above, to where yon insect flies!"
Oh, yes, mamma! how very gay its wings of starry gold!
And see! it lightly flies away beyond my gentle hold.

Oh, mother, now I now full well, if God that worm can change,
And draw it from this broken cell on golden wings to range;
How beautiful will brother be, when God shall give him wings,
Above this dying world to flee, and live with heavenly things!"

17.-THE SPIRIT IS EVERYWHERE.-Anon.

In our dreams of heaven, whate'er they be,
Of golden vista or moonlight sea,
Where the stars are borne on fiery wings,
And space with celestial cadence rings;
In the earnest breathings of nightly prayer,
The Spirit of God is there, is there!

In the coral reefs of the wild South Sea,-
In the small green leaves of the amber tree,-
Where the journeying air to the wind-flower sighs
Of unfading bloom in Paradise ;-

Where gems are sparkling in beauty rare ;—
The Spirit of God is there, is there!

As the dew that falls on the twilight bough,
We know not where, and we know not how;
As cherished tones round the heart which play,
Of one belov'd in our life's sweet May;
As viewless music in viewless air,-

The Spirit of God is everywhere!

18. THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.-Mrs. Hemans.

"Oh! call my brother back to me ! I cannot play alone. The summer comes with flower and bee ; where is my brother gone? The butterfly is glancing bright across the sunbeam's track; I care not now to chase its flight-oh! call my brother back."

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"He would not hear thy voice, fair child; he may not come to thee !
The face that once like spring-time smiled, on earth no more thou❜lt see.
A rose's brief bright life of joy, such unto him was given :
Go, thou must play alone, my boy; thy brother is in heaven."

"And has he left his birds and flowers? and must I call in vain?
And through the long, long summer hours, will he not come again?
And by the brook and in the glade are all our wanderings o'er ?
Oh! while my brother with me played, would I had loved him more !"

19.-SONG OF THE STARS.-Bryant.

When the radiant morn of creation broke,

And the world in the smile of God awoke,

And the empty realms of Darkness and Death

Were moved through their depths by His mighty breath;
And orbs of beauty, and spheres of flame,

From the void abyss by myriads came;
In the joy of youth, as they darted away,
Through the widening wastes of space to play,
Their silver voices in chorus rung,

And this was the song the Bright Ones sung:

"Away, away, through the wide, wide sky—
The fair blue fields that before us lie:

Each sun with the worlds that round us roll.
Each planet poised on her turning pole,

With her isles of green, and her clouds of white,
And her waters that lie like fluid light.
For the Source of Glory uncovers His face,
And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space;
And we drink, as we go, the luminous tides,
In our ruddy air, and our blooming sides;
Lo, yonder the Living Splendours play!
Away! on our joyous path, away!"

20.-HARVEST HYMN.-Mrs. Hemans.

Now Autumn strews, on every plain, his mellow fruits and fertile grain ; and laughing Plenty, crowned with sheaves, with purple grapes and spreading leaves, in rich profusion pours around her flowing treasures on the ground. Oh! mark the great, the liberal Hand, that scatters blessings o'er the land; and, to the God of Nature, raise the grateful song, the Hymn of

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Praise. 2 The infant corn, in vernal hours, He nurtured with His gentle showers; and bade the summer clouds diffuse their balmy store of genial dews. He marked the tender stem arise, till ripened by the glowing skies; and now, matured, his work behold!—the cheering harvest waves in gold. To Nature's God with joy we raise the grateful song, the Hymn of Praise. The valleys echo to the strains of blooming maids and village swains ;-to Him they tune the lay sincere, whose bounty crowns the smiling year. The sounds from every woodland borne, the sighing winds that bend the corn, the yellow fields around, proclaim His mighty, everlasting name. To Nature's God, united raise the grateful song, the Hymn of Praise.

21.-THE DEATH-BED.-T. Hood.

We watch'd her breathing through the night-her breathing soft and low;
As in her breast the wave of life kept heaving to and fro.
So silently we seem'd to speak, so slowly moved about,
As we had lent her half our powers to eke her living out.

Our very hopes belied our fears, our fears our hopes belied

We thought her dying-when she slept, and sleeping-when she died! For when the Morn came dim and sad, and chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed ;-she had another Morn than ours!

22.-HEAR OUR SOLEMN LITANY.-Grant.

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1 Saviour! when in dust to Thee low we bow the adoring knee; when, repentant, to the skies scarce we lift our streaming eyes; O! by all the pains and woe, suffered once for man below, bending from Thy throne on high-hear our solemn litany! 2 By Thy helpless infant years, by Thy life of wants and tears, by Thy days of sore distress in the savage wilderness; by the dread permitted hour of the insulting Tempter's power; turn, O, turn a pitying eye-hear our solemn litany! By the sacred grief that wept o'er the grave where Lazarus slept; by the boding tears that flowed over Salem's loved abode; by the anguished words that told treachery lurked within Thy fold; from Thy seat above the sky-hear our solemn litany! By Thine hour of dire despair, by Thine agony of prayer, by the cross, the nail, the thorn; piercing spear, and torturing scorn; by the gloom that veiled the skies o'er that dreadful sacrifice, listen to our humble cry-hear our solemn litany! 5 By the deep expiring groan, by the sad sepulchral stone, by the vault whose dark abode held in vain the rising God; O from earth to heaven restored, mighty re-ascended Lord, listen, listen to our cry-hear our solemn litany!

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23.-A DIRGE.-Croly.

1 "Earth to earth, and dust to dust!" Here the evil and the just, here the youthful and the old, here the fearful and the bold, here the matron and the maid, in one silent bed are laid; here the vassal and the king, side by side, lie withering; here the sword and sceptre rust :-"earth to earth, and dust to dust!" 2 Age on age shall roll along, o'er this pale and mighty throng; those that wept them, those that weep, all shall with these sleepers sleep; brothers, sisters of the worm! summer's sun, or winter's storm, song of peace, or battle's roar, ne'er shall break their slumbers more; Death shall keep his sullen trust :-"earth to earth, and dust to dust!" 3 But a day is coming fast,-Earth, thy mightiest and thy last! it shall come in fear and wonder, heralded by trump and thunder: it shall come in strife and toil; it shall come in blood and spoil; it shall come in empires' groans, burning temples, trampled thrones: then, Ambition, rue thy lust:"earth to earth, and dust to dust!" 4 Then shall come the Judgment sign; in the east, the King shall shine; flashing from heaven's golden gate, thousand-thousands round his state, spirits with the crown and plume; tremble then, thou solemn tomb! Heaven shall open on our sight; Earth be turned to living light, kingdom of the ransomed just! "earth to earth, and dust to dust!" 5 Then thy mount, Jerusalem, shall be gorgeous as a gem: then shall in the desert rise fruits of more than paradise; earth by angel feet be trod, one great garden of her God! till are dried the martyrs' tears through a thousand glorious years:-now in hope of Him we trust. "earth to earth, and dust to dust!"

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24.-TIME AND ETERNITY.-Bonar.

It is not Time that flies-'tis we, 'tis we are flying; it is not Life that dies-'tis we, 'tis we are dying. Time and eternity are one, time is eternity begun; life changes, yet without decay-'tis we alone who pass away. It is not truth that flies-'tis we, 'tis we are flying; it is not Faith that dies-'tis we, 'tis we are dying. Oh! ever-during Faith and Truth, whose youth is age, whose age is youth twin stars of immortality, ye cannot perish from our sky. 3 It is not Hope that flies-'tis we, 'tis we are flying; it is not Love that dies-'tis we, 'tis we are dying! Twin streams that have in heaven your birth, ye glide in gentle joy through earth; we fade, like flowers beside you sown; ye are still flowing, flowing on ! 4 Yet we but die to live! it is from death we're flying; for ever lives our life-for us there is no dying. We die but as the spring-bud dies, in summer's golden glow to rise: these be our days of April bloom—our July is beyond the tomb!