THE WEANED CHILD.

QUIET, Lord, my froward heart,

Make me teachable and mild, Upright, simple, free from art; Make me as a weaned child.

From distrust and envy free,

Pleased with all that pleases Thee.

What thou shalt to-day provide,

Let me as a child receive; What to-morrow may betide, Calmly to Thy wisdom leave.

'Tis enough that Thou wilt care, Why should I the burden bear?

As a little child relies

On a care beyond its own;

Knows he's neither strong nor wise

Fears to stir a step alone

Let me thus with Thee abide,
As my Father, Guard, and Guide.

Thus preserved from Satan's wiles,
Safe from dangers, free from fears,
May I live upon thy smiles

Till the promised hour appears;
When the sons of God shall prove
All their Father's boundless love.

II.

SONGS IN THE NIGHT SEASON.

"But none saith, where is God my Maker, who giveth songs in the night ?”—JOB, xxxv. 10.

THE night is proverbially a time of festivity and

song. The cares and business of the day are then over; the taxed mind and the wearied muscles seek relaxation; the stillness of the evening invites to those pleasures which cannot be enjoyed amidst the bustle and din of business; and the darkness calling off the mind from the outdoor duties and gayeties, turns it to those domestic or social or festive gatherings, where the gladness of the heart testifies its existence by singing and the voice of melody.

But the vast majority of these songs are earth-born, and designed only for earthly ends. The bacchanalian chorus, the moonlight serenade, the orchestral concert, the parlour melody, the love-lorn ditty, and the trumpetrousing strains of martial music, are each of terrestrial birth; and though they may deeply affect the heart, rousing it to wildest joy or sinking it to pensive sadness, yet are they evanescent, and soon are among things of a forgotten past.

the

No such songs, though sung with unrivalled art, though swelling with delicious melody, though rich in