parents hurled about in scoffs and jests, abuse, without compunction and without thought, the name of your Heavenly Father! Once more, I ask, 4. Profaneness is an awful vice! whose name is it you so lightly use? That holy name of God! Have you ever pondered its meaning'? Have you ever thought what it is that you mingle thus with your passion and your wit'? It is the name of Him whom the angels worship, whom the Heaven of heavens can not contain ! 5. Profane young man! though habit be ever so stringent with you, when the word of mockery and of blasphemy is about to leap from your lips, think of these considerations, think of God, and, instead of that wicked oath, cry out in reverent prayer, "HALLOWED BE THY NAME!" LESSON XXIX. 1 SA BI AN, of or pertaining to Saba, an ancient town of Arabia, celebrated for frankincense, myrrh, and aromatic plants. 1. VOICES OF GOD. LON. BRIT. MAGAZINE. HERE are voices of God for the careless ear, THE A low-breathed whisper when none is near; In the silent watch of the night's calm hours, When the dews are at rest in the deep-sealed flowers; 'Tis a breath of reproval-a murmuring tone, 2. 'Tis a voice that sweeps through the evening sky, When the clouds o'er the pale moon are hurrying by; While the fickle gusts, as they come and go, Wake the forest boughs on the mountain's brow; It speaks in the shadows that swiftly pass, In the waves that are roused from the lake's clear glass, 3. And that voice breaks out in the tempest's flight, 4. 'Tis a voice which comes in the early morn, 5. In the twilight hour, when the weary bird On its nest is sleeping, that voice is heard; While mist-robes are drawn o'er the green earth's breast, 6. There are whispers of God in the cataract's roar, 7. And it saith to the cold and the careless heart, I have called by my Spirit, and ye would not! 1. LESSON XXX BETTER THAN GOLD. ANON. BETTER thang titles, a thousand fold, ETTER than grandeur, better than gold, Is a healthy body, a mind at ease, And simple pleasures that always please; 2. Better than gold is a conscience clear, Though toiling for bread in a humble sphere; Adorn and ennoble a poor man's cot; 3. Better than gold is the sweet repose Of the sons of toil when their labors close; A shorter road to the land of dreams. 4. Better than gold is a thinking mind, 5. Better than gold is a peaceful home, Where all the fireside charities come, Or tried with sorrow by Heaven's decree, LESSON XXXI. THE ANGEL OF THE LEAVES: AN ALLEGORY. "A HANNAH F. GOULD. LAS! alas!" said the sorrowing Tree, "my beautiful robe is gone! It has been torn from me. Its faded pieces whirl upon the wind; they rustle beneath the squirrel's foot, as he searches for his nut. They float upon the passing stream, and on the quivering lake. Woe is me! for my fair, green vesture is gone. It was the gift of the Angel of the Leaves! I have lost it, and my glory has vanished; my beauty has disappeared. My summer hours have passed away. My bright and comely garment, alas! it is rent in a thousand parts. 2. "Who will weave me such another? Piece by piece, it has been stripped from me. Scarcely did I sigh for the loss of one, ere another wandered off on the air. The sound of music cheers me no more. The birds that sang in my bosom were dismayed at my desolation. They have flown away with their songs. 3. "I stood in my pride. The sun brightened my robe with his smile. The zephyrs breathed softly through its glossy folds; the clouds strewed pearls among them. My shadow was wide upon the earth. My arms spread far on the gentle air; my head was lifted high; my forehead was fair to the heavens. But now, how changed! Sadness is upon me; my head is shorn, my arms are stripped; I can not now throw a shadow on the ground. Beauty has departed; gladness is gone out of my bosom ; the blood has retired from my heart, it has sunk into the earth. 4. "I am thirsty; I am cold. My naked limbs shiver in the chilly air. The keen blast comes pitiless among them. |