cours of only the next twenty-four hours; perhaps some of you, above there, can give me the exact sum.”

5. The minute-hand, being quick at figures, presently replied, "Eighty-six thousand four hundred times." "Exactly so," replied the pendulum; "well, I appeal to you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue one; and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by those of months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt discouraged at the prospect; so, after a great deal of reasoning and hesitation, thinks I to myself, I'll stop."

6. The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this harangue; but resuming its gravity, thus replied: “Dear, Mr. Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious person as yourself, should have been overcome by this sudden action. It is true, you have done a great deal of work in your time; so have we all, and are likely to do; which, although it may fatigue us to think of, the question is whether it will fatigue us to do. Would you now do me the favor to give about half a dozen strokes to illustrate my argument?"

7. The pendulum complied, and ticked six times in its usual pace. "Now," resumed the dial, "may I be allowed to inquire, if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you?" "Not in the least," replied the pendulum, "it is not of six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions." "Very good," replied the dial; "but recollect that though you may think of a million strokes in an instant, you are required to execute but one; and that, however often you may hereafter have to swing, a moment will always be given you to swing in." "That consideration staggers me, I confess," said the pendulum. "Then I hope," resumed the dial-plate, "we shall all immediately return to our duty; for the maids will lie in bed if we stand idling thus."

8. Upon this, the weights, who had never been accused of light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began to move, the pendulum began to swing, and, to its credit, ticked as loud as ever ; while a red beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in

the kitchen, shining full upon the dial-plate, it brightened up, as if nothing had been the matter.

9. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon looking at the clock, he declared that his watch had gained half an hour in the night.

MORAL.

10. A celebrated modern writer says, "Take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves." This is an admirable remark, and might be very seasonably recollected when we begin to be "weary in well-doing," from the thought of having much to do. The present moment is all we have to do with, in any sense; the past is irrecoverable; the future is uncertain; nor is it fair to burden one moment with the weight of the next. Sufficient unto the moment is the trouble thereof. If we had to walk a hundred miles, we should still have to set but one step at a time, and this process continued, would infallibly bring us to our journey's end. Fatigue generally begins, and is always increased, by calculating in a minute the exertion of hours.

11. Thus, in looking forward to future life, let us recollect that we have not to sustain all its toil, to endure all its sufferings, or encounter all its crosses, at once. One moment comes laden with its own little burdens, then flies, and is succeeded by another no heavier than the last: if one could be borne, so can another and another.

12. Even looking forward to a single day, the spirit may sometimes faint from an anticipation of the duties, the labors, the trials to temper and patience, that may be expected. Now this is unjustly laying the burden of many thousand moments upon one. Let any one resolve always to do right now, leaving then to do as it can ; and if he were to live to the age of Methuselah he would never do wrong. But the common error is to resolve to act right after breakfast, or after dinner, or to-morrow morning, or next time: but now, just now, this once, we must go on the same as ever.

13. It is easy, for instance, for the most ill-tempered person to resolve that the next time he is provoked, he will not let his temper overcome him; but the victory would be to

subdue temper on the present provocation. If, without taking up the burden of the future, we would always make the single effort at the present moment; while there would, at any one time, be very little to do, yet, by this simple process continued, everything would at last be done.

14. It seems easier to do right to-morrow than to-day, merely because we forget that when to-morrow comes, then will be now. Thus life passes with many, in resolutions for the future, which the present never fulfils.

15. "It is not thus with those, who," by patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory, honor, and immortality. Day by day, minute by minute, they execute the appointed task, to which the requisite measure of time and strength is proportioned; and thus, having worked while it was called. day, they at length rest from their labors, and their works "follow them."

16. Let us then, "whatever our hands find to do, do it with all our might," recollecting that "now is the proper and accepted time."

LXXXVII.-SONG OF REBECCA, THE JEWESS.

SCOTT.

1. When Israel, of the Lord beloved,
Out from the land of bondage came,
Her father's God before her moved,
An awful guide, in smoke and flame.
By day, along the astonished lands,
The cloudy pillar glided slow;
By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands
Returned the fiery column's glow.

2. Then rose the choral hymn of praise,
And trump and timbrel answered keen ;
And Zion's daughters poured their lays,
With priest's and warrior's voice between.
No portents now our foes amaze,
Forsaken Israel wanders lone !

Our fathers would not know Thy ways,
And Thou hast left them to their own.

3. But present still, though now unseen,
When brightly shines the prosperous day,
Be thoughts of Thee, a cloudy screen
To temper the deceitful ray :

And oh! where stoops on Judah's path
In shade and storm the frequent night,
Be Thou long-suffering, slow to wrath,
A burning and a shining light!

4. Our harps we left by Babel's streams,
The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn;
No censer round our altar beams,
And mute are timbrel, trump, and horn.
But Thou hast said, the blood of goat,
The flesh of rams I will not prize :
A contrite heart, a humble thought,
Are mine accepted sacrifice.

LXXXVIII.—ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW.

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

1. On Horeb's rock the prophet stood, The Lord before him passed;

A hurricane in angry mood

Swept by him strong and fast;
The forest fell before its force,
The rocks were shivered in its course:
God was not in the blast ;

'Twas but the whirlwind of his breath,
Announcing danger, wreck, and death.

2. It ceased. The air grew mute,—a cloud
Came, muffling up the sun,

When through the mountain, deep and loud,
An earthquake thundered on;
The frighted eagle sprang in air,
The wolf ran howling from his lair:
God was not in the storm;
'Twas but the rolling of his car,
The trampling of his steeds from far.

3. 'Twas still again,—and Nature stood
And calmed her ruffled frame,
When swift from heaven a fiery flood
To earth devouring came;
Down to the depth the ocean fled;

The sickening sun looked wan and dead;
Yet God filled not the flame ;
'Twas but the terror of his eye,

That lightened through the troubled sky.

4. At last, a voice all still and small
Rose sweetly on the ear;

Yet rose so shrill and clear, that all
In heaven and earth might hear;
It spoke of peace, it spoke of love,
It spoke as angels speak above;
And God himself was there;
For O! it was a father's voice,
That bade the trembling heart rejoice.

LXXXIX.-ROADS AND BRIDGES OF THE
ANCIENT PERUVIANS.

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT.

1. Those who may distrust the accounts of Peruvian industry will find their doubts removed on a visit to the country. The traveler still meets, especially in the central regions of the table-land, with memorials of the past,-remains of temples, palaces, fortresses, terraced mountains, great military roads, aqueducts, and other public works, which, whatever degree of science they may display in their execution, astonish him by their number, the massive character of the materials, and the grandeur of the design.

2. Among them, perhaps the most remarkable are the great roads, the broken remains of which are still in sufficient preservation to attest their former magnificence. There were many of these roads, traversing different parts of the kingdom; but the most considerable were the two which