God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge
To pick out treasures from an earthen pot.
The worst speak fomething good; if all want fenfe,
God takes a text, and preacheth patience.

He that gets patience, and the bleffing which
Preachers conclude with, hath not loft his pains;
He that by being at Church escapes the ditch.
Which he might fall in by companions, gains.
He that loves God's abode, and to combine
With faints on earth, fhall one day with them fhine.
G. HERBERT.

XXXIV.

THE CHRISTIAN.

OW fine has the day been, how bright was the fun!

How lovely and joyful the courfe that

he run!

Though he rofe in a mift, when his race he begun,

And there followed fome droppings of rain. But now the fair traveller's come to the West, His rays are all gold, and his beauties are beft; He paints the sky gay, as he finks to his rest, And foretells a bright rifing again.

Juft fuch is the Chriftian! His course he begins, Like the fun in a mift, when he mourns for his

fins,

And melts into tears, then he breaks out and fhines,
And travels his Heavenly way.

But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine fetting fun, he looks richer in grace;
And gives a sure hope at the end of his days,
Of rifing in brighter array.

WATTS.

XXXV.

CONTENTMENT.

JOME murmur when their sky is clear,
And wholly bright to view,

If one fmall fpeck of dark appear,

In their great heaven of blue;

And fome with thankful love are

filled,

If but one streak of light,

One of God's great mercy gild

ray

The darkness of their night.

In palaces are hearts that ask,
In discontent and pride,
Why life is fuch a dreary task,

And all good things denied?
And hearts in pooreft huts admire
How love has, in their aid,
(Love that not ever seems to tire,)
Such rich provifion made.

TRENCH.

H

XXXVI.

CONTENTMENT.

E that is down needs fear no fall,
He that is low, no pride:
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.

I am content with what I have,
Little be it, or much;

And, Lord, contentment ftill I crave,
Because Thou faveft fuch.

Fulnefs to fuch a burden is,
That go on pilgrimage;
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
Is beft for age to age.

BUNYAN.

XXXVII.

HUMILITY.

HE bird that foars on higheft wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly neft;
And the that doth moft fweetly fing,
Sings in the fhade when all things
reft.

In lark and nightingale we fee
What honour hath humility.

When Mary chofe "the better part,"
She meekly fat at Jesus' feet;
And Lydia's gently-opened heart

Was made for God's own temple meet.

Faireft and beft adorned is fhe

Whofe clothing is humility.

The faint that wears the brighteft crown,

In deepest adoration bends;

The weight of glory bows him down

Then moft when moft his foul afcends;

Neareft the throne itself must be

The footftool of humility.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

XXXVIII.

SOLITUDE.

AM monarch of all I furvey,
My right there is none to difpute,
From the centre all round to the fea,

I am Lord of the fowl and the brute.
O folitude! where are the charms
That fages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the fweet mufic of fpeech,-
I ftart at the found of my own.
The beafts that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference fee,
They are fo unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is fhocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestowed upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove,
How foon would I tafte you again!
My forrows I then might affuage

In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the wifdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.