Thy great and everlasting will be done!

Will God make known his will; his power display? Be it the work of mortals to obey.

Done is the great, the wondrous work of Love,
On Calvary's cross He died, but reigns above:
Earth bears the record in thy holy word.
As heaven adores thy love, let earth, O Lord!
It shines transcendent in th' eternal skies,

Is praised in heaven; for man the Saviour dies;
In songs immortal angels laud his name:

Heaven shouts with joy, and saints his love proclaim.
Give us, O Lord, our food, nor cease to give
Us of that food on which our souls may live!
This be our boon to-day, and days to come,
Day without ends in our eternal home.
Our needy souls supply from day to day,
Daily assist and aid us when we pray.
Bread though we ask, yet, Lord, thy blessing lend,
And make us grateful when thy gifts descend.
Forgive our sins, which in perdition place
Us the vile children of a rebel race;
Our follies, faults, and trespasses forgive,-
Debts which we ne'er can pay, or thou receive;
As we, O Lord, our neighbors' faults o'erlook,
We beg that ours be blotted from thy book.

Forgive our enemies, extend thy grace
Our souls to save, even Adam's guilty race:
Debtors to thee in gratitude and love,
And in that duty paid by saints above,
Lead us from sin; and in thy mercy raise
Us from the tempter and his evil ways.
Not in our own, but in His name who bled,
Into thine ear we pour our every need.
Temptation's fatal charms help us to shun;
But may we conquer through thy only Son!

Deliver us from that which can annoy
Us in this world, and may our souls destroy
From all calamities which men betide,
Evil and death, oh! turn our feet aside;

For we are mortal worms, and cleave to clay:
Thine 't is to rule; ours be it to obey.
Is not thy mercy, Lord, forever free?

The whole creation knows no God but thee.
Kingdom and empire in thy presence fall,
The King eternal reigns the King of all.
Power is with thee, to thee be glory given;
And be thy name adored by earth and heaven!
The praise of saints and angels is thy own:
Glory to thee, the everlasting One,
Forever be Jehovah's name adored!

Amen!

Hosanna! blessed be the Lord!

EXERCISE XLVIII.

THE GAME AT CRICKET.- Miss Mitford.

'So you Aberleigh boys are about to play against the boys of Sandleford,' said George Leslie to Horace Lucas. 'Have you a good eleven?'

'Our players are pretty fair, I believe,' replied Horace; 'but the number is short. Both sides have agreed to take a mate or two from other parishes; and I rode over to ask your cousin Charles and yourself to join the Aberleigh party.'

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Faith! you are in luck, my good friend,' cried George Leslie; you may look upon the game as won. Charles, to be sure, is no great hand; can't bowl; hits up; - and a bad "field," -a slow, awkward "field." But I did you never see me play? And I am so much improved this season! I ought to be improved, for I have seen such play, and such players! I am just returned from my aunt's, who lives within a mile from Bramshill, - Sir John's, you know, and there were all the great men of the day, all the lord's men: Mr. Ward,- and Mr. Budd; — I'm thought to stand at my wicket very much like Mr. Budd; Saunders, who is reckoned, take him all in all, - the best player in England, Saunders, and Broadbridge, the Sussex bowler; - I don't patronize their system, though;-I stick to the old, steady, scientific game; Lord Frederick, and Mr.

Knight; he's a fine figure of a man, is Mr. Knight, the finest figure of any of them, and great in the field; old Howard, the bowler, - he 's my model; and, in short, almost every celebrated cricketer in England, was there. I hear that you Westminsters think that nobody can do any thing so well as yourselves; but as far as cricket goes ask Charles, he'll tell you that you are in luck to have me.' And off the young gentleman strutted, to pay his compliments to some ladies who were talking to his mother, on the other side of the lawn; for this conversation took place on a fine day in July, under the shadow of some tall elms, in Mr. Leslie's beautiful grounds.

George's speech had been delivered in a high, solemn, vaunting tone, as grave as Don Quixote; but of the two who remained, Horace, a quick, arch, lively lad,-laughed outright; and Charles, - —a mild, fair, delicate boy,- could not help smiling.

He gives himself a comfortable character, however,' said Horace ; ' rather too good to be true; whilst of you he speaks modestly enough. Are you so bad, Charles? And is he such a paragon of cricketers? Does he bat like Mr. Budd, and field like Mr. Knight, and bowl like Mr. Howard?'

'Why, not exactly,' was the reply; 'but there's more truth than you think, for he's a good, but uncertain player; and I am a bad one; shy, and timid, and awkward; always feeling, when the game is over, that I might have done better; just as I have felt when a clever man, your father, for instance, has had the goodness to speak to me, how much better I ought to have talked. Somehow, the power never comes at the right time, at either game; so that I may say, as some people say of cucumbers, that I like cricket, but that cricket does not like me.'

'Good or bad, my dear fellow, I'll take you,' said Horace, nervousness and all. It's a pity that you two cousins could not make over to one another some parcel of your several qualities: you would be much the happier for a dash of George's self-conceit, and he could spare enough to set up a whole regiment of dandies; whilst he would be all the better for your superfluous modesty. However, I'll take you both, right thankfully. And the arrangements were entered into forthwith.

They were to meet on the ground, the ensuing morning, to

play the match; different engagements preventing the Leslies from practising with the Aberleigh side, that evening, as Horace had wished and intended; for our friend Horace, ardent and keen in every thing, whether of sport or study, had set his heart on winning this match, and was very desirous of trying the powers of his new allies. Fifty times, during the evening, did he count over his own good players, and the good players of the other side, and gravely conclude: 'It will all depend upon the Leslies. How I wish to-morrow were come!" He said this so often, that even his sister Emily, although the most indulgent person in the world, and very fond of her brother, grew so tired of hearing him, that she could not help saying," I wish to-morrow were come, too!'

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And, at last, -as generally happens, whether we wish for it or not, -to-morrow did come, as brilliant a morrow as ever was anticipated, even by a school-boy in the holydays. The sun rose without a cloud; I speak from the best authority, for, scorning the scorner sleep,' Horace was up before him; and the ball being twenty times weighed, and the bats fifty times examined, he repaired, by half-past nine, to Sandleford Common, where the match was to be played, and the wickets were to be pitched, precisely at ten o'clock.

EXERCISE XLIX.

THE SAME SUBJECT, CONCLUDED.

All parties were sufficiently punctual; and when the whole set had assembled, Horace found, that, in spite of his calculations, a mistake had arisen in the amount of his forces; that, reckoning himself, there were ten Aberleigh boys on the ground, besides the two foreign allies, proceeding, perhaps, from his over-anxiety to collect recruits; whilst the Sandleford captain, on the contrary, had neglected to secure another mate, as agreed on, and could only muster the original ten of his own parish, himself included.

In this dilemma, the umpires immediately proposed to divide the auxiliaries; a suggestion to which George assented

with his usual air of indifference, and Charles with his invariable good-humor.

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"You had better toss-up for me,' said the former. For the choice,' was Horace's civil amendment; and toss they did. 'Heads!' cried he of Sandleford, and heads it was; and partly caught by the gentleman's happy knack of puffing himself, partly by the knowing manner in which he was handling his bat, George was instantly claimed by the winner, and the game began.

Sandleford went in; and it was desired that the stranger and the best of the home party should take the precedence. But our great player coquetted. It might put their side out of spirits, if, by any accident, he were out early in the game: he had seen a match lost, by Mr. Budd or Saunders having their wickets knocked down sooner than was expected. He would wait.' Accordingly, it was not till the first four had gone down, with only twenty notches gained, that he, at last, went in, to retrieve,' as he said, "the fortune of the day.'

Nothing could be more imposing than his appearance. There he stood at the wicket, striking his bat against the ground with impatience; pawing the earth, as it were, like a race-horse at the starting-post, or a greyhound in the slips; and friends and foes admired and wondered. Even Horace Lucas felt the effect of the fine attitude, and the brilliant animation, and delivered his ball less steadily than usual, anticipating that his opponent would go at least three runs. fears were soon quieted. By some accident,' (to use the young gentleman's own phrase,) Mr. George hit up; and that exceedingly bad field, his cousin Charles, caught him out, without a notch.

His

This misfortune sadly disconcerted Sandleford, as well as the unfortunate champion, and put Aberleigh in high spirits. Horace bowled better than ever; the fielding was excellent; and the whole eleven were out for forty-seven notches, wretched innings.'

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Aberleigh then went in; Horace, and at Horace's request, his ally, Charles : George being one of the bowlers. But poor George (to borrow once more his own words) 'was out of luck, thoroughly out of luck;' for, in spite of all his efforts, the two mates got fifty-six, before they parted; and the whole score was a hundred and nine.

Eighty-two ahead in the first innings! Small hopes of