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as ever to reach forward to the things that are before; and, instead of grieving over the sundry and manifold changes of the world, have our hearts surely fixed where true joys are to be found.
* Nor by the way-side ruins let us mourn,
We change our volume, and find ourselves called to think over the frightful force of those sad words of the Rich Man of to-day's Gospel, respecting the five brethren, towards whom his soul turned with helpless dread and longing, in the place of torment.
• Five loving souls, each one as mine,
For good or ill,
For verily it is so! One careless word-one insolent look, one scornful tone--may lead astray and taint a young soul, so that it bars itself from Paradise. We have heard of St. Augustine's sorrow for the companion whom his example had injured. What must such remorse be in the dreadful world, where there is horrible certainty and no place for repentance ? And yet
• We scatter seeds with careless hand,
Their fruit appears,
Or healthful store.'
It is literal truth. It can be proved by almost any minute biography, or by merely listening to the recollections of our elders. Everyone remembers some word or action of another, that has either helped to form his habits or else sunk into his mind, and fixed some opinion. Nor can anyone tell which seeds will be caught up and assimilated by the wonderful minds of the young.
Our deeds and words seem gone, but there is no end to them. At the judgment day we shall not only answer for them on our own part, but we shall see their effects on others. We may see hundreds, the worse for some foolish selfish encouragement we have given to some bad habit of finery or self-indulgence. Or we may see our own nearest and dearest lost, through our worldliness or irreverence, or the obstacles we have selfishly raised to their acting conscientiously. Alas! Alas! What can we do? Only while we live among others,
• Keep thou the one true way
In work and play,
(To be continued.)
LUIS PONCE DE LEON. *
(BORN 1528, DIED 1591.)
Thine unprotected flock alone,
While Thou ascend'st Thy glorious throne ?
Oh, where can they their hopes now turn,
Who never lived but on Thy love?
When Thou art lost in light above ?
How shall those eyes now find repose,
That turn, in vain, Thy smile to see?
Who lose Thy voice's melody?
And who shall lay his tranquil hand
Upon the troubled ocean's might?
Who guide us thro' this starless night?
For Thou art gone!—that cloud so bright,
That bears Thee from our love away,
And leaves us here to weep and pray. [This poem, beginning ‘Y detas, pastor santo,' is supposed to be sung by the disciples as they saw their Lord's Ascension.]
* And they appointed two, Joseph called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias. And they prayed, and said, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, shew whether of these two Thou hast chosen. ... And they gave forth their lots ; and the lot fell upon Matthias; and he was numbered with the eleven Apostles.'
Acts, i. 23, 24, 26.
Which of the twain the Lord should choose,
Had said, “This take, and this refuse.'
* Translated by George Ticknor, Author of History of Spanish Literature.'
But when the lot came forth, and fell
To good Matthias' thankful share,
Grand hymns of praise succeeded prayer.
New life was his, a martyr's doom
Foreshadowed glory round him shed,
And with Apostles numbered !
But the un-chosen one! Ah, pause,
And think a moment of his lot!
And with Apostles numbered not.
Ah, brought so near, yet left so far,
Ah, losing what another gair !!
Or drew he balm from what remained ?
Not his a Bishop's staff and crown,
But his sweet memories of the time
Beside him walked a Form Divine.
Ah, in this moment swift there sped
Back to his thoughts, we may believe
• More blest to give than to receive.'
Unto his brother's face, and gave
That rose rejoicing, wave on wave.
Calm and unmoved, content to wait
Humbly for death, his name unknown,-
Another on the judgment throne!
Thus may we trust, though Holy Writ
Is silent on his after fate,
For record such as this to wait.
* And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.'- Rev. xxi. 14.
+ ‘Ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.'--St. Mutt. xix. 28.
The Church's work was done, and well;
The Church's Lord exalted high;
Of one poor sinner's destiny?
A lesson for these lives of ours,
At thought of undeveloped powers.
The crown that lights another's brow-
Ah, leave to Him the why and how!
No lot has fallen; no consent
Of one on service fully bent.
That one life should in silence glide,
His name to blazon far and wide.
Sufficient be it that He knows,
He knows with whom is wisdom's key-
Denied to Justus and to thee.
Hadst thou been given His vineyards fair,
To tend and train, to dress and keep,
Had made the Heavenly Planter weep.
And, oh! forget thou not to pray
When from thy grasp it passed away.
Give thanks for his God-given power;
In his praise at the Judgment hour.
“Matthias laboured, Justus prayed ; Both spread the Glory of My Name, On both My Benison be laid !"!
FLORENCE WILFORD. 30
PROPER PSALM FOR ASCENSION DAY.
(Domini est terra.)
Safe in the hand of God,
And fixed it on the flood.
With dauntless foot shall climb,
Beyond the mists of time ?
May reach that upper air ;
Which no deceivers share.
New pity, boundless grace,
Dropped on His chosen race.
As dew-drops by the sun,
They follow, one by one.
Eternal doors, unfold!
Before your portals old.
Ascending to His home?
In battle and in doom.
Eternal doors, unfold !
Before your portals old.
Exalted to the sky,