forgetfulness, what is it in the high scale of the Amighty's workmanship? A mere shred which, though scattered into nothing, would leave the universe of God one entire scene of greatness and majesty.

2. Though the earth and the heavens were to disappear, there are other worlds which roll afar; the light of other suns shines upon them; and the sky which mantles them, is garnished with other stars. Is it presumption to say that the moral world extends to these distant and unknown regions? that the praises of God are there lifted up, and his goodness rejoiced in? that there piety has its temples and its offerings? and the richness of the Divine attributes, is there felt and admired by intelligent worshipers?

3. The universe at large would suffer as little in its splendor and variety by the destruction of our planet, as the verdure and sublime magnitude of a forest, would suffer by the fall of a single leaf. The leaf quivers on the branch which supports it. It lies at the mercy of the slightest accident. A breath of wind tears it from its stem, and it lights on the stream of water which passes underneath. In a moment of time the life, with which we know by the microscope it teems, is extinguished, and an occurrence so insignificant in the eye of man, and on the scale of his observation, carries in it, to the myriads which people this little leaf, an event as terrible and as decisive as the destruction of a world.

4. Now, on the grand scale of the universe, we, the occupiers of this ball which performs its little round among the suns and the systems that astronomy has unfolded,-we may feel the same littleness and the same insecurity. We differ from the leaf only in this circumstance, that it would require the operations of greater elements to destroy us. But these elements exist. The fire which rages within may lift its devouring energy to the surface of our planet, and transform it into one wide and wasting volcano. The sudden formation of elastic matter in the bowels of the earth, may explode it into fragments.

5. The exhalation of noxious air from below, may impart a

virulence to the air that is around us; it may affect the delicate proportions of its ingredients; and the whole of animated nature may wither and die under the malignity of a tainted atmosphere. A blazing comet may cross this fated planet in its orbit, and realize all the terrors which superstition has conceived of it. We can not anticipate with precision the consequences of an event which every astronomer must know to lie within the limits of chance and possibility. It may hurry our globe toward the sun, or drag it to the outer regions of the planetary system, or give it a new axis of revolution; and the effect which I shall simply announce without explaining it, would be to change the place of the ocean, and bring another mighty flood upon our islands and continents.

6. These are changes which may happen in a single instant of time, and against which nothing known in the present system of things provides us with any security. They might not annihilate the earth, but they would unpeople it; and we who tread its surface with such firm and assured footsteps, are at the mercy of devouring elements, which, if let loose upon us by the hand of the Almighty, would spread solitude, and silence, and death over the dominions of the world.

7. Now, it is this littleness and this insecurity which make the protection of the Almighty so dear to us, and bring, with such emphasis, to every pious bosom, the holy lessons of humility and gratitude. The God who sitteth above, and presides, in high authority, over all worlds, is mindful of man; and, though, at this moment, His energy is felt in the remǝtest provinces of creation, we may feel the same security in His providence, as if we were the objects of His undivided care.

8. It is not for us to bring our minds up to this mysterious agency. But such is the incomprehensible fact, that the same Being, whose eye is abroad over the whole universe, gives vegetation to every blade of grass, and motion to every particle of blood, which circulates through the veins of the minutest animal; that, though His mind takes into its comprehensive grasp immensity and all its wonders, I am as much known to Him, as if I were the single object of His attention; that He

marks all my thoughts; and that, with an exercise of power, which I can neither describe nor comprehend, the same God who sits in the highest Heaven, and reigns over the glories of the firmament, is at my right hand to give me every breath which I draw, and every comfort which I enjoy.

LESSON C.

A NAME IN THE SAND.

HANNAH F. GOULD.

1. ALONE I walked the ocean strand;
A pearly shell was in my hand;
I stooped and wrote upon the sand
My name, the year, the day.
As onward from the spot I passed,
One ling'ring look behind I cast;
A wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away.

2. And so, methought, 'twill shortly be
With every mark on earth from me;
A wave of dark oblivion's sea,

Will sweep across the place,

Where I have trod the sandy shore
Of time, and been to me no more,—
Of me, my day,—the name I bore,
To leave no track nor trace.

3. And yet with Him who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in His hands,
I know a lasting record stands,

Inscribed against my name,

Of all this mortal part has wrought;
Of all this thinking soul has thought;
And, from these fleeting moments caught,
For glory or for shame.

LESSON CX.

HAPPINESS.

POLLOK.

1. God gave much peace on earth,—much holy joy.
Oped fountains of perennial spring, whence flowed
Abundant happiness to all who wished

To drink;-not perfect bliss; that dwells with us,
Beneath the eyelids of the Eternal One,
And sits at IIis right hand alone; but such,
As well deserved the name,-abundant joy;
Pleasures, on which the memory of saints
Of highest glory, still delights to dwell.
2. It was, we own, subject of much debate,
And worthy men stood on opposing sides,
Whether the cup of mortal life had more
Of sour or sweet. Vain question this, when asked
In general terms, and worthy to be left
Unsolved. If most was sour, the drinker, not
The cup we blame. Each, in himself, the means
Possessed to turn the bitter sweet,-the sweet
To bitter. Hence, from out the self-same fount,
One nectar drank; another, draughts of gall.
3. Hence, from the self-same quarter of the sky,
One saw ten thousand angels look and smile;
Another saw as many demons frown;
One discord heard, where harmony inclined
Another's ear. The sweet was in the taste;
The beauty in the eye; and in the ear,
The melody; and in the man,-for God
Necessity of sinning laid on none,—
To form the taste, to purify the eye,

And tune the ear, that all he tasted, saw,

Or heard, might be harmonious, sweet, and fair.

Who would, might groan; who would, might sing for joy.

4. Whether in crowds or solitudes, in streets Or shady groves, dwelt Happiness, it seems

In vain to ask; her nature makes it vain; Though poets much, and hermits talked and sung Of brooks, and crystal founts, and weeping dews, And myrtle bowers, and solitary vales. Delirious babble all! Was Happiness, Was self-approving, God-approving joy, In drops of dew, however púre ?-in gales, However sweet?-in wells, however cléar? Or groves, however thick with verdant shades? 5. Times, these were of themselves exceeding fair; How fair at morn and even! worthy the walk Of loftiest mind; and gave, when all within Was right, a feast of overflowing bliss; But were the occasion, not the cause of joy. They waked the native fountains of the soul, Which slept before, and stirred the holy tides Of feeling up; giving the heart to drink From its own treasures, draughts of perfect sweet. 6. The Christian faith, which better knew the heart Of man, him thither sent for peace; and thus Declared :-" Who finds it, let him find it there; Who finds it not, forever let him seek

In vain,--'tis God's most holy, changeless will." 7. True Happiness had no localities;

No tones provincial; no peculiar garb. Where duty went, she went; with justice wènt; And went with meekness, charity, and love. Where'er a tear was dried; a wounded heart Bound up; a bruised spirit with the dew Of sympathy anointed; or a pang Of honest suffering soothed; or injury Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven. 8. Where'er an evil passion was subdued, Or virtue's feeble embers fanned; where'er A sin was heartily abjured, and left; Where'er a pious act was done, or breathed