Should I distribute all my store
To feed the bowels of the poor,
Or give my body to the flame,
To gain a martyr's glorious name,--

If love to God, and love to men,
Be absent, all my hopes are vain;
Not tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal,
The work of love can e'er fulfil.

The Beatitudes.

"Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises."-2 Pet. i.

Bless'd are the humble souls that see
Their emptiness and poverty;

Treasures of grace to them are given,
And crowns of joy laid up in heaven.

Bless'd are the men of broken heart,
Who mourn for sin with inward smart ;
The blood of Christ divinely flows,
A healing balm for all their woes.

Bless'd are the meek that stand afar,
From rage and passion, noise and war;

God will secure their happy state,

And plead their cause against the great.

Bless'd are the souls that thirst for grace,
Hunger and long for righteousness;
They shall be well supplied and fed,
With living streams and living bread.

Bless'd are the men whose bowels move,
And melt with sympathy and love;
From Christ the Lord shall they obtain
Like sympathy and love again.

Bless'd are the pure, whose hearts are clean,

From the defiling power of sin;

With endless pleasure they shall see,

A God of spotless purity.

Bless'd are the men of peaceful life,
Who quench the coals of glowing strife ;
They shall be call'd the heirs of bliss,
The sons of God, the God of Peace.

Bless'd are the suff'rers who partake
Of pain and shame for Jesus' sake;
Their souls shall triumph in the Lord;
Glory and joy are their reward.

WATTS.

Hymn.

Lord, when we bend before thy throne,

And our confessions pour:

Teach us to feel the sins we own,
And shun what we deplore.

Our contrite spirits pitying see,

And penitence impart,

And let a healing ray from thee
Beam hope upon the heart.

When our responsive tongues essay
Their grateful songs to raise,

Grant that our souls may join the lay,

And rise to thee in praise.

When we disclose our wants in prayer,

May we our wills resign,

And not a thought our bosom share,
Which is not wholly thine.

Let faith each meek petition fill,

And waft it to the skies,

And teach our hearts 'tis goodness still That grants it or denies.

Consolation in Christ.

"For we have not a high priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was, in all points, tempted like as we are; yet without sin."---Heb. iv. 15.

"In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them."---Isa. lxiii. 9.

When gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark and friends are few ;
On him I lean, who not in vain,
Experienced every human pain.
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts, and treasures up my tears.

If ought should tempt my soul to stray
From heav'nly virtue's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do;
Still he who felt temptation's pow'r
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

If wounded love my bosom swell.
Deceiv'd by those I priz'd too well,
He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer woe;
At once betray'd, denied, or fled
By all that shared his daily bread.

When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And sore dismay'd my spirit dies;
Yet he who once vouchsaf'd to bear
The sick'ning anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend.
And from his voice, his hand, bis smile,
Divides me for a little while;

Thou Saviour seest the tears I shed;
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.

And O, when I have safely past
Through ev'ry conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging watch beside
My painful bed: for thou hast died:
Then point to realms, of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.

GRANT.

Hymn.

From the recesses of a lowly spirit

My humble prayer ascends, O Father, hear it; Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness, Forgive its weakness.