willing to suffer. And, truly, thou oughtest gladly to undergo a little for Christ, when others will undergo so much for the worldknowing for certain, that it behoves thee to lead a dying life: and that the more each one dies to himself, the more he begins to live for God. No one is fit to understand heavenly things, unless he has bowed himself down to bear wrongs for Christ's sake. Nothing is more pleasing to God, nothing is more healthful for thyself in this world, than that thou shouldst gladly suffer for Christ. And if thou hadst the choice, thou oughtest rather to choose to suffer wrongs for Christ than to be filled with gladness: because thou wouldst then be more like Christ himself and more like his saints.

For our merit and well-being lie not in the sweets and comforts of godliness, but rather in bearing heavy sorrows and worries as we ought. For if, indeed, there had been any thing better and more available to man than suffering, Christ would have shewn it both by word and example. Whereas, he openly exhorted all the disciples who followed him, and all those who desired to follow him, to bear the cross:-"If any one will come after me," he said, "let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me."

Let this, therefore, be the end of all our reading and of all our seeking:-"Through many tribulations, we must enter into the kingdom of God."-IMITATION OF CHRIST.

THE

VILLAGE CLOCK.

The day is past. Time hastens on,

Hour after hour. Twill soon be done.

In vain we shut our eyes, and mock

At thoughts of death.-Hark! There's the clock!

NIGHT.

How brightly shines the moon!

Our clock

Looks glad. The hour of ten has struck.
The ten commandments shew thy law,
Great God! May we obey with awe.

Sleep weighs o'er all. God keep us still
From hurtful dreams and thoughts of ill.
Grant, Lord! that ev'ry hour may see
Us nearer, by one hour, to thee.

How still is all the world! Our clock
Grows loud-more loud. Eleven has struck.
Eleven apostles sorely grieved-

Abhorr'd the cross-but still believ'd.

Sleep weighs o'er all. God keep us still
From hurtful dreams and thoughts of ill.
Grant, Lord! that ev'ry hour may see
Us nearer, by one hour, to thee.

Hark, to the ticking of our clock!

Nought else was heard when twelve it struck.

Twelve chosen apostles soon went forth
And rous'd the world to a second birth.

Sleep weighs o'er all. God keep us still
From hurtful dreams and thoughts of ill.
Grant, Lord! that ev'ry hour may see
Us nearer, by one hour, to thee.

List to the night-wind's sigh! Our clock
Seems loth to chide it:-One has struck.
One God reigns o'er earth, sea, and air;
In Him, all things live, move, and are.

Sleep weighs o'er all. God keep us still
From hurtful dreams and thoughts of ill.
Grant, Lord! that ev'ry hour may see
Us nearer, by one hour, to thee.

The moon sinks down. Our darken'd clock
Peals through the silence. Two has struck.
Two testaments, the Lord has given-

One promises, one gives us heaven.
Sleep weighs o'er all.

God keep us still

From hurtful dreams and thoughts of ill.
Grant, Lord! that ev'ry hour may see
Us nearer,
by one hour, to thee.

The air grows keen. The wakeful cock
Startles the dusk. 'Tis three o'clock.
Three days Christ lay within the tomb-
He rose; and man escap'd the doom.

Sleep yet awhile. Thy soul may still
Forget the body's load of ill.

If thou hast pray'd him, God will keep

Thy soul with Him the while thou sleep.

MORNING.

Red tinges now the East. Our clock

Four has struck.

Peals out more cheerly.
Four seasons to each crop are given :

We, too, are plants that grow for heaven.

Rise up! rise up!

Gilds the hill-tops.

Behold the sun

The night is done.

Great God! to thee our hearts we bow:
In light or darkness, save us Thou.

Hark to the twittering birds! Our clock
The wakeful hour of five has struck.
Five wounds our Saviour bore for man :
Let not those wounds have bled in vain!
To God be ev'ry moment given,

And make this world a part of heaven:
Labour for Him throughout the day—
He only can thy toils repay.

Loud hums the busy world. Our clock
Was scarcely heard when six it struck.
God gave six days for toil: beware
Lest earthly toil be all thy care.

To God be ev'ry moment given,

And make this world a part of heaven:
Labour for Him throughout the day-
He only can thy toils repay.

Plough-sickle-spade-all work. Our clock
The hour of seven has loudly struck.
Seven deadly sins beset thy way;
Pray God uphold thee! Watch and pray.
To God be ev'ry moment given,

And make this world a part of heaven;
Labour for Him throughout the day-
He only can thy toils repay.

Now to thy breakfast. Hark! the clock
The hour of eight has gladly struck.
Eight beatitudes 'tis thine to win:
Oh, who, with such a choice, would sin!
To God be ev'ry moment given,

And make this world a part of heaven;
Labour for Him throughout the day-
He only can thy toils repay.

The neighbouring town wakes up. Our clock Swells o'er the hubbub :-nine has struck. Nine ways may make thy spirit share Another's sin;-of them, beware.

To God be ev'ry moment given,

And make this world a part of heaven:
Labour for Him throughout the day-
He only can thy toils repay.

The sun is high in heaven. Our clock
The hour of ten has slowly struck.

Ten tribes rebell'd: but Christ came down,
As promis'd in the faithful one.