What might be done? This might be done,
And more than this, my suffering brother-
More than the tongue

E'er said or sung,

If men were wise, and loved each other.

LOOK ABOVE.

THE eye of a godly man is not fixed on the false sparkling of the world's pomp, honour, and wealth. It is dead to them, being quite dazzled with a greater beauty. The grass looks fine in the morning, when it is set with those liquid pearls, the drops of dew that shine upon it; but if you can look but a little while on the body of the sun, and then look down again, the eye is, as it were, dead; it sees not that faint shining on the earth that it thought so gay before; and as the eye is blinded, and dies to it, so, within a few hours, that gayety quite vanishes and dies of itself.

A LARGE retinue upon a small income, like a large cascade upon a small stream, tends to discover its tenuity.

A LESSON TAUGHT BY THE ROBIN.

As often as I hear the Robin-red-breast chaunt it as cheerfully in September, the beginning of winter, as in March, the approach of the summer, why should not we (thinks I) give as cheerful entertainment to the hoary frosty airs of our age's winter, as to the primroses of our youth's spring? Why not to the declining sun in adversity, as, like Persians, to the rising sun of prosperity? I am sent to the ant, to learn industry; to the dove, to learn innocency; to the serpent, to learn wisdom; and why not to this bird, to learn equanimity and patience, and to keep the same tenour of my mind's quietness, as well at the approach of the calamities of winter, as of the spring of happiness? And since the Roman's constancy is so commended, who changed not his countenance with his changed fortunes; why should not I, with a Christian resolution, hold a steady course in all weathers? and though I be forced with cross-winds to shift the sails and catch at side-winds, yet skilfully to steer and keep on my course, by the Cape of Good Hope, till I arrive at the haven of eternal happiness.

DUTY IS WORSHIP.

LABOUR is worship, a poet hath sung,

And her eloquent breathings yet rest on our tongue,
The chained eagle pineth, the still water faileth,
And wasting care ever the idle assaileth.

There is life, active life, in the breeze of the hill,
In the song of the lark, in the gush of the rill,
And therefore they worship, and so doth the morn,
When in beauty and gladness the day-spring is born.
Then is eloquent worship; but what of the night,
When all beauty and brightness are hid from our
sight;

And what of the quiet lake, calm and serene,
And the tarnished ore, under earth's carpet of green!
Oh, do not they worship because they are still!
They all, the place God hath appointed them, fill.
There is worship we feel when the forest is rife
With music and sunshine and redolent life;

When the birds of the air and the flowers of the sod,
Join incense and anthem in worship of God.
But, is there no worship when moonbeams steal
through,

And the giant rock, doth not that worship Him too?
Labour is worship! When the might of man's mind
Is set on such deeds as ennoble his kind;

When he strives to spread knowledge, or gladness, or

health;

When he works with his hands, or endows with his

wealth;

When thinketh the clear head, its thoughts deep and

wise;

And great truths like stars on man's destiny rise;
When writeth the bold hand in tone calm and strong,
The protest of right 'gainst oppression and wrong;
When the intellect lofty, or knowledge-stored mind,
Attuneth with hearts that are gentle and kind,
Then labour is worship! But, what if the toil
Be the meanest that ever was wrought on the soil?
Ay, then-even then, if our duty be there;
For fulfilment of duty is eloquent prayer,-
Labour is worship; and therefore 'tis blest,
But surely they also may worship who rest.
Stars differ in glory, and thrones in estate;
They also may serve who have only to wait;
When the preacher or teacher of wisdom and truth,
When the leader of classes or guardian of youth,
When the poet or prophet forget for a time,
Provisions of good-aspirations sublime.
To stand by the couch of the weary and weak,
When burneth the brow, and paleth the cheek,
When lips that have uttered philosophy, move
With words of endearment and accents of love.
This also is worship, for duty is there,
And fulfilment of duty is eloquent prayer.

CONTENTMENT.

THERE is no estate of life so happy in this world as to yield a Christian the perfection of content: and yet there is no estate of life so wretched in this world, but a Christian must be content with it. Though I have nothing that may give me true content, yet I will learn to be truly contented here with what I have. What care I, though I have not much? I have as much as I desire, if I have as much as I want; I have as much as the most, if I have as much as I desire.

GENTLE WORDS.

USE gentle words, for who can tell
The blessings they impart!
How oft they fall (as manna fell)
On some nigh fainting heart!

On lonely wilds by light-winged birds
Rare seeds have oft been sown,

And hope has sprung from gentle words,
Where only griefs had grown.