ot is on you—to be found, untired,
atching the stars out by the bed of pain,
a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired,
d a true heart of hope, though hope be vain ;→→→
ly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay,
oh! to love through all things-therefore pray.

take the thought of this calm vesper time,
_th its low murmuring sounds and silvery light,
rough the dark days fading from their prime,
a sweet dew to keep your souls from blight.
will forsake-oh! happy to have given
unbroken heart's first fragrance unto Heaven!

LESSON XXXIX.

Seasons of Prayer.-H. WARE, Jr.

rayer! to prayer!-for the morning breaks,
earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
ght is on all, below and above-
Light of gladness, and life, and love.
then, on the breath of this early air,
upward the incense of grateful prayer.

ayer!—for the glorious sun is gone, the gathering darkness of night comes on. a curtain from God's kind hand it flows, nade the couch where his children repose. kneel, while the watching stars are bright, give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.

rayer!—for the day that God has blest
es tranquilly on with its welcome rest.
eaks of creation's early bloom,
eaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
summon the spirit's exalted powers,
devote to Heaven the hallowed hours.

1

There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes,
For her new-born infant beside her lies.
Oh! hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows :—

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;
Let it swell up to Heaven for her precious care.

4

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,
As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.

Kneel down by the dying sinner's side,
And pray for his soul, through him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow
Oh! what are earth and its pleasures now?
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer?

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith.
He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;
There is peace in his eye, that upward bends;
There is peace in his calm, confiding air;
For his last thoughts are God's,-his last words, prayer.

The voice of prayer at the sable bier!—
A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.
It commends the spirit to God who gave;
It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave;
It points to the glory where he shall reign,
Who whispered, “Thy brother shall rise again.”

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss!-
But gladder, purer than rose from this.
The ransomed shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;

sinless and joyous song they raise, heir voice of prayer is eternal praise.

e! awake! and gird up thy strength, n that holy band at length.

im, who unceasing love displays,

1 the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
im thy heart and thy hours be given;
life of prayer is the life of heaven.

LESSON XL.

Solitude.-BYRON.

ight, when meditation bids us feel
once have loved, though love is at an end:
eart, lone mourner of its baffled zeal,

ough friendless now, will dream it had a friend.
o with the weight of years would wish to bend,
youth itself survives young love and joy?
s! when mingling souls forget to blend,
hath but little left him to destroy!

ppy years! once more who would not be a boy?

bending o'er the vessel's laving side,
gaze on Dian's wave-reflected sphere,
oul forgets her schemes of hope and pride,
d flies unconscious o'er each backward year.
ne are so desolate but something dear,
er than self, possesses or possessed

hought, and claims the homage of a tear-
shing pang! of which the weary breast
till, albeit in vain, the heavy heart divest.

t on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, slowly trace the forest's shady scene,

e things that own not man's dominion dwell, d mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;

To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold;

Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;—

This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,

And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendor shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less,
Of all that flattered, followed, sought and sued;—
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!

LESSON XLI.

Art of Pleasing.-CHESTERFIELD

THE desire of being pleased is universal; the desire of pleasing should be so too. It is included in that great and fundamental principle of morality, of doing to others what we wish they should do to us. There are, indeed, some moral duties of a much higher nature, but none of a more amiable; and I do not hesitate to place it at the head of the minor virtues.

The manner of conferring favors or benefits is, as to pleasing, almost as important as the matter itself. Take care, then, never to throw away the obligations, which, perhaps, you may have it in your power to confer upon others, by an air of insolent protection, or by a cold and comfortless manner, which stifles them in their birth. Humanity inclines, religion requires, and our moral duties oblige us, as far as we are able, to relieve the distresses and miseries of our fellowcreatures but this is not all; for a true, heart-felt benevolence and tenderness will prompt us to contribute what we can to their ease, their amusement, and their pleasure, as

:

anocently we may.

Let us, then, not only scatter

but even strow flowers, for our fellow-travellers in ed ways of the world.

are some, and but too many in this country parwho, without the least visible taint of ill-nature or nce, seem to be totally indifferent, and do not show desire to please; as, on the other hand, they never ly offend. Whether this proceeds from a lazy, negd listless disposition, from a gloomy and melancholic rom ill health, low spirits, or from a secret and sullen ising from the consciousness of their boasted liberty pendence, is hard to determine, considering the vaovements of the human heart, and the wonderful the human head. But, be the cause what it will, trality which is the effect of it, makes these people, alities always do, despicable, and mere blanks in soThey would surely be roused from their indifference, if uld seriously consider the infinite utility of pleasing. person who manifests a constant desire to please, is perhaps small stock of merit at great interest. st returns, then, must real merit, when thus adorned, ily bring in!

y

is the essential article toward pleasing, and is It of good nature and good sense: Lut good-breeding coration, the lustre of civility, and only to be acquired nute attention to good company. A good-natured an may be intentionally as civil as the politest court his manner often degrades and vilifies the matter; in good-breeding, the manner always adorns and the matter to such a degree, that I have often known urrency to base coin.

ty is often attended by a ceremoniousness, which eeding corrects, but will not quite abolish. A certain of ceremony is a necessary outwork of manners: the forward and petulant at a proper distance, and is mall restraint to the sensible and to the well-bred the world.