Tonched by an influence and a power
He never felt until that hour,

The language of his eye was meek,
And the warm tears were on his cheek.

He did not kneel, he did not pray ;

No thought through utterance found its way;
His feeling could no language find -
For God was present to his mind.

XXIII. - PRAISE OF GOD: A HYMN IN PROSE.

MRS. BARBAULD.

COME, and I will show you what is beautiful. It is a rose fully blown. See how she sits upon her mossy stem, like the queen of all the flowers! her leaves glow like fire; the air is filled with her sweet odor! she is the delight of every eye.

She is beautiful, but there is a fairer than she. He that made the rose is more beautiful than the rose; he is all lovely; he is the delight of every heart.

I will show you what is strong. The lion is strong; when he raiseth up himself from his lair, when he shaketh his mane, when the voice of his roaring is heard, the cattle of the field fly, and the wild beasts of the desert hide themselves, for he very terrible.

is

The lion is strong, but He that made the lion is stronger than he: his anger is terrible; he could make us die in a moment, and no one could save us out of his hand.

I will show you what is glorious. The sun is glorious. When he shineth in the clear sky, when he sitteth on the bright throne in the heavens, and looketh abroad over all the earth, he is the most excellent and glorious creature the eye can behold.

The sun is glorious, but He that made the sun is more glo

rious than he. The eye beholdeth him not, for his brightness is more dazzling than we could bear. He seeth in all dark places; by night as well as by day; and the light of his countenance is over all his works.

Who is this great name, and what is he called, that my lips may praise him?

This great name is God. He made all things, but he is himself more excellent than all which he hath made: they are beautiful, but he is beauty; they are strong, but he is strength; they are perfect, but he is perfection.

XXIV. - NIGHT: A HYMN IN PROSE.

MRS. BARBAULD.

THE glorious sun is set in the west; the night dews fall; and the air, which was sultry, becomes cool.

The flowers fold up their colored leaves: they fold themselves up, and hang their heads on the slender stalk.

The chickens are gathered under the wing of the hen, and are at rest; the hen herself is at rest also.

The little birds have ceased their warbling; they are asleep on the boughs, each one with his head behind his wing.

There is no murmur of bees around the hive, or among the honeyed woodbines; they have done their work, and lie close in their waxen cells.

The sheep rest upon their soft fleeces, and their loud bleating is no more heard among the hills.

There is no sound of a number of voices, or of children at play, or the trampling of busy feet, and of people hurrying to and fro.

The smith's hammer is not heard upon the anvil; nor the harsh saw of the carpenter.

All men are stretched on their quiet beds; and the child sleeps upon the breast of its mother.

Darkness is spread over the skies, and darkness is upon the ground; every eye is shut, and every hand is still.

Who taketh care of all people when they are sunk in sleep; when they cannot defend themselves, nor see if danger approacheth?

There is an eye that never sleepeth; there is an eye that seeth in dark night as well as in the bright sunshine.

When there is no light of the sun, nor of the moon; when there is no lamp in the house, nor any little star twinkling through the thick clouds; that eye seeth every where, in all places, and watcheth continually over all the families of the earth.

The eye that sleepeth not is God's; his hand is always stretched out over us.

He made sleep to refresh us when we are weary; he made night that we might sleep in quiet.

As the mother moveth about the house with her finger on her lips, and stilleth every little noise, that her infant be not disturbed; as she draweth the curtains around its bed, and shutteth out the light from its tender eyes; so God draweth the curtains of darkness around us; so he maketh all things to be hushed and still, that his large family may sleep in peace. Laborers spent with toil, and young children, and every little humming insect, sleep quietly, for God watcheth over you. You may sleep, for he never sleeps: you may close your eyes in safety, for his eye is always open to protect you.

When the darkness is passed away, and the beams of the morning sun strike through your eyelids, begin the day with praising God, who hath taken care of you through the night. Flowers, when you open again, spread your leaves, and smell sweet to his praise.

Birds, when you awake, warble your thanks amongst the green boughs; sing to him before you sing to your mates.

Let his praise be in our hearts when we lie down; let his praise be on our lips when we awake.

XXV. THE BRAVE PEASANT.

In the hard winter of 1783 and 1784 there were many sudden and heavy storms of rain. The streams and rivers overflowed their banks, and swept along large pieces of broken ice in their course. A great deal of property was destroyed: houses were carried away; and many persons lost their lives.

In the city of Verona, in Italy, there was a large, bridge over the river Adige, on which the city is built. This river rises in the snowy mountains of Tyrol, and runs with a rapid current. Upon the bridge there was a house in which the toll-gatherer* lived with his family. By a sudden increase of the river, this house became entirely surrounded by water; and many of the arches of the bridge were carried away by the huge blocks of ice which floated down the current.

The part of the bridge on which the house was built stood the longest, because it was the most strongly built. But it looked as if it must soon go with the rest. The poor man, and his wife and children, uttered loud cries for help; which were heard by a great number of persons who stood on the banks. Every body pitied them, but no one could do any thing for them, because it seemed impossible that a boat could live in a river running with such force, and so filled with blocks of ice.

A gentleman on horseback rode down to the banks of the river; and when he saw the dangerous position of the family, he held up a purse of two hundred ducats,† and said he would give it to any one who would save them. But the fear of death kept every body, even some sailors who were present, from making the attempt. In the mean time the water rose higher around the house every moment.

*Toll-gatherer. Toll is the money paid by passengers for the privilege of passing over a bridge, and a toll-gatherer is the man who collects it. + Ducat, a gold coin, worth about two dollars.

At last an Austrian peasant* felt his heart filled with compassion for the poor people, and resolved to save them if he could. He sprang into a boat, pushed off from the shore, and by help of strength and skill, reached the house at last. But the family was numerous, and the boat was small; so that he could not bring them all at once. He first took three persons, and conducted them safely to land, and then went back for the rest, and brought them away also. Hardly was this done, when the house, and the part of the bridge on which it stood, were carried away.

The brave peasant was hailed with shouts of joy and admiration. The gentleman handed him the purse of gold, and Isaid that he well deserved it. But the peasant declined to take it, saying, "I did not do this for money: I am not rich, but I have enough for my wants: give it to the poor toll-gatherer, who has lost his all."

And then he went away without telling the people his name, or where he lived.

XXVI.-LOVING AND LIKING.

WORDSWORTH.

[To love and to like are not the same. We love something that feels, and enjoys its life, or some being that can do good or harm, or something very beautiful that God has made, as we love a bird or a friend. We like what gives us pleasure to look at, to hear, or to smell of, that is, we like a pretty picture, or a song, or a plum. We do not love the song or the plum. Now, some persons speak of loving pears and apples, or any nice food; that is not a proper use of the word love.]

SAY not you love a roasted fowl;

But you may love a screaming owl,
And, if you can, the unsightly toad
That crawls from his secure abode
Within the mossy garden wall,
When evening dews begin to fall.
And when upon some showery day,
Into a path or public way,

* Peasant, a name given in Europe to a laboring man who lives in the country.