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THE VILLAGE PARSON.
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings leaned to virtue's side;
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all :
And—as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies-
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismayed,
The reverend champion stood. At his control
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorned the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran;
Even children followed, with endearing wile,
And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile.
His ready smile a parent's warmth express’d,
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distress'd;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.
Like some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm;
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. GOLDSMITH.

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with roses,

THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. Pentecost, day of rejoicing had come. The church of the village Stood glearning white in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the

belfry, Tipped with a vane of metal, glanced the flames of the spring-sun. Clear was the heaven, and blue; and May with her cap crowned Stood in holiday dress in the fields; and the wind and the brooklet Murmured gladness and peace-God's peace! With lips rosy-tinted Whispered the race of the flowers; and merry, on balancing

branches, Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest. Swept and clean was the church-yard. Adorned like a leaf-woven

arbour Stood its old-fashioned gate; and within, upon each cross of iron, Hung was a sweet-scented garland, new-twined by the hands of

affection.

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Even the dial, that stood on a fountain among the departed, (There full á hundred years had it stood), was embellished with

blossoms. Like to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet, Who on his birth-day is crowned by children and children's

children; So stood the ancient prophet, and mute with his pencil of iron Marked on the tablet of stone, and measured the swift-changing

moment; While all around at his feet an eternity slumbered in quiet. Also the church within was adorned, for this was the season In which the young—their parents' hope, and the loved-ones of

heaven Should at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their baptism. There stood the church like a garden; from noble arms on the

church wall Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of oak-wood Budded once more anew, as aforetime the rock before Aaron. Wreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed

with silver, Under its canopy fastened, a necklace had on of wild-flowers. Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling; And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets. Loud rang the bells already; the thronging crowd was assembled Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching. Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones from the organ. Hover like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits, Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal, Tuned to the choral of Luther; the song on its powerful pinions Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven. Lo! there entered then into the church the Reverend Teacher, Clothed from his head to his feet the old man of seventy winters. Friendly was he to behold, and glad as the heralding angel Walked he among the crowds; but still a contemplative grandeur Lay on his forehead, as clear as on moss-covered grave-stone a

sun-beam. Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian service, Singing and prayer, and at last an ardent discourse from the old Many a moving word and warning, that out of the heart came, Fell like the dew of the morning, like manna on those in the desert. Afterwards when all was finished, the Teacher re-entered the

chancel, Followed therein by the young. On the right hand the boys had

their places, Delicate figures with close curling hair, and cheeks rosy-blooming. But on the left hand of these there stood the tremulous lilies, Tinged with the blushing light of the morning, the diffident

maidens, Folding their hands in prayer, and their eyes cast down on the

pavement.

man:

Now came, with question and answer, the catechism. In the

beginning Answered the children with troubled and faltering voice, but the

old man's Glances of kindness encouraged them soon, and the doctrines

eternal Flowed, like the waters of fountains, so clear from lips unpolluted. Friendly the Teacher stood, like an angel of light there among

them; And to the children explained he the Holy, the Highest, in few

words, Thorough, yet simple and clear; for sublimity always is simple,Both in sermon and song, a child can seize on its meaning. Even as the green-growing bud is unfolded when Spring-tide

approachesLeaf by leaf is developed, and, warmed by the radiant sunshine, Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the perfected blossom Opens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its crown in the breezesSo was unfolded here the Christian lore of salvation Line by line from the soul of childhood. The fathers and mothers Stood behind them in tears, and were glad at each well-worded

answer.

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Then went the old man up to the altar;—and preached in eloquent

tones. This is the faith of the Fathers, the faith the Apostles delivered ; This is, moreover, the faith whereunto I baptized you, while Lay on your mother's breasts, and nearer the portals of heaven. Slumbering received you then the Holy Church in its bosom; Wakened from sleep are ye now, and the light, in its radiant

splendour, Rains from the heaven downward ;-to-day on the threshold of

childhood Kindly she frees you again, to examine and make your election, For she knows nought of compulsion, and only conviction desireth. This is the hour of your trial, the turning point of existence, Seed for the coming days; without revocation departeth Now from your lips the confession : bethink ye, before ye make

answer! Think not, O think not with guile to deceive the great Searcher of

Hearts. Sharp is his eye to-day, and a curse ever rests upon falsehood. Enter not with a lie on Life's journey; the multitude hears you, Brothers and sisters and parents, what dear upon earth is and holy Standeth before your sight as a witness; the Judge everlasting Looks from the sun down upon you; and angels in waiting

beside him Grave your confession in letters of fire, upon tablets eternal. Will ye promise me here, (a holy promise!) to cherish God more than all things earthly, and every man as a brother? Will ye promise me here, to confirm your faith by your living, Th’ heavenly faith of affection! to hope, to forgive, and to suffer

Be what it may your condition—and walk before God in uprightness ? Will ye promise me this before God and man?”—With a clear voice Answered the young men, Yes! and Yes ! with lips softly-breathing Answered the maidens all. Then dissolved from the brow of the

Teacher Clouds with the thunders therein, and he spake on in Accents more

gentle – Soft as the evening's breath, as harps by Babylon's rivers. “Hail, then, hail to you all! To the heirdom of heaven be ye

welcome! Children no more from this day, but by covenant brothers and sisters! Yet-for what reason not children? Of such is the kingdom of heaven. Here upon earth an assemblage of children, in heaven one Father, Ruling them as his own household — forgiving in turn and

chastising, This is of human life a picture, as Scripture has taught us. Blessed are the pure before God! Upon purity and upon virtue Resteth the Christian faith; she herself from on high is descended. Strong as a man, and pure as a child, is the sum of the doctrine Which the Saviour delivered, and on the cross suffered and died for. O! as ye wander this day from childhood's sacred asylum Downward and ever downward, and deeper in Age's chill valley,-0! how soon will ye come,-too soon !-and long to turn backward Up to its hill-tops again, to the sun-illumined; where Judgment Stood like a father before you, and Pardon, clad like a mother, Gave you her hand to kiss, and the loving heart was forgiven: Life was a play, and your hands grasped after the roses of heaven ! Seventy years have I lived already; The Father Eternal Gave to me gladness and care; but the loftiest hours of existence, When I have steadfastly gazed in their eyes, I have instantly

known them, Known them all, áll again ;--they were my childhood's acquaintance. Therefore take from henceforth, as guides in the paths of existence, Prayer, with her eyes raised to heaven, and Innocence, bride of

man's childhood. Innocence, child beloved, is a guest from the world of the blessed, Beautiful, and in her hand a lily; on life's roaring billows Swings she in safety; she heedeth them not, in the ship she is

sleeping. Calmly she gazes around in the turmoil of men; in the desert Angels descend and minister unto her; she herself knoweth Naught of her glorious attendance; but follows faithful and humble, Follows so long as she may her Friend; O do not reject her, For she cometh from God, and she holdeth the keys of the heavens. Prayer is the friend of Innocence: and gladly flieth incessant "Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven. Son of Eternity, fettered in Time, and an exile, the spirit Tugs at its chains evermore, and struggles like flames ever upward. Still he recalls with emotion his Father's manifold mansions; | Thinks of the land of his fathers, where blossomed more freshly the

flowers, Shone a more beautiful sun; and he played with the winged angels.

Then grows the earth too narrow, too close; and home-sick for

heaven Longs the wanderer again; and the spirit's longings are worship; Worship is called his most beautiful hour, and its tongue is entreaty. Ah! when the infinite burden of life descendeth upon us, Crushes to earth our hope, and, under the earth, in the grave

yard,Then it is good to pray unto God; for his sorrowing children Turns he ne'er from his door; but he heals, and helps, and consoles

them. Yet it is better to pray when all things are prosperous with us, Pray in fortunate days; for life's most beautiful Fortune Kneels down before the Eternal's throne; and with hands inter

folded, Praises, thankful and moved, the only giver of blessings. Or do ye know, ye children, one blessing that comes not from

Heaven? Earth declareth God's might, and the firmament uttereth his glory. Races blossoin and die, and stars fall downward from heaven, Downward like withered leaves; at the last stroke of midnight,

millenniums Lay themselves down at his feet; and he sees them, but counts them

as nothing. Who shall stand in his presence? The wrath of the Judge is

terrific. Casting the insolent down at a glance. When he speaks in his

anger Hillocks skip like the kid, and mountains leap like the roebuck. Yet,—why are ye afraid, ye children? This awful Avenger Is still a merciful God ! His voice was not in the earthquake, Not in the fire, nor the storm; but it was in the whispering breezes. Love is the root of creation: God's essence. Worlds without

number Lie in his bosom like children; he made them for this purpose only. Love is life, but hatred is death. Not father, nor mother Loved you, as God has loved you; for 't was that you may be

happy Gave he his only Son. When Christ bowed down his head in the

death-hour Solemnized Love its triumph; the sacrifice then was completed. Therefore, child of mortality, love thou the merciful Father; Wish what the Holy One wishes; and not from fear, but affection; Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is willing: Perfect was before God, and perfect is Love, and Love only. Lovest thou God as thou oughtest, then lovest thou likewise thy

brethren; One is the sun in heaven; and one, only one, is love also. Bears not each human figure the godlike stamp on his forehead ? Readest thou not in his face thine origin? Is he not sailing Lost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is he not guided, By the same stars that guide thee? Why shouldst thou hate then

thy brother?

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