'the everlasting Son of the everlasting Father! the Judge of mankind! the Sovereign of angels! the Lord of all things both in earth and heaven! LESSON CXVIII. Valley of Jehoshaphat.-CHATEAUBRIAND. THE Valley of Jehoshaphat has in all ages served as the burying place to Jerusalem; you meet there, side by side, monuments of the most distant times, and of the present century. The Jews still come there to die, from the corners of the earth. A stranger sells to them, for almost its weight in gold, the land which contains the bones of their fathers. Solomon planted that valley; the shadow of the temple by which it was overhung-the torrent, called after grief, which traversed it—the Psalms which David there composed-the lamentations of Jeremiah which its rocks reechoed, rendered it the fitting abode of the tomb. Christ commenced his Passion in the same place; that innocent David there shed, for our sins, tears which the guilty David let fall for his own transgressions. Few names awaken in our minds recollections so solemn, as the valley of Jehoshaphat. The aspect of the celebrated valley is desolate; the western side is bounded by a ridge of lofty rocks which support the walls of Jerusalem, above which the towers of Jerusalem appear. The eastern side is formed by the Mount of Olives, and another eminence called the Mount of Scandal, from the idolatry of Solomon. These two mountains which adjoin each other, are almost bare, and of a red and sombre hue; on their desert side you see here and there some black and withered vineyards, some wild olives, some ploughed land, covered with hyssop, and a few ruined chapels. At the bottom of the valley, you perceive a torrent, traversed by a single arch, which appears of great antiquity. The stones of the Jewish cemetery appear like a mass of ruins at the foot of the Mountain of Scandal, under the village of Siloam. You can hardly distinguish the buildings of the village, from the ruins with which they are surrounded. Three ancient monuments are particularly, conspicuous, those of Zachariah, Jehoshaphat and Absalom. The sadness of Jerusalem from which no smoke ascends, and in which no sound is to be heard; the solitude of the surrounding mountains, where not a living creature is to be seen; the disorder of these tombs, ruined, ransacked, and half exposed to view, would almost induce one to believe that the last trump had been heard, and that the dead were about to rise in the valley of Jehoshaphat. L LESSON CXIX. A Mother's Death.-CRABBE. THEN died lamented, in the strength of life. Called not away, when time had loosed each hold Slowly they bore, with solemn step, the dead:- So swift the ill, and of so fierce a kind, - Friends with the husband came, their griefs to blend; While the meek father, listening to their tones, Swelled the full cadence of the grief by groans. Curious and sad, upon the fresh-dug hill, Arrived at home, how then they gazed around, In every place where she, no more was found; The seat at table she was wont to fill; The fire-side chair, still set, but vacant still; LESSON CXX. A Voice from the Wine Press.-MISS GOULD. 'T WAS for this they reared the vine, And cherished it from branch to root! 'T was for this, that from the blast That its fruit might ripen fast, And for this they rudely tore And the longer we are pent Uttered by the dying grapes. Many a stately form shall reel, What the recent draught has been; We the purse will oft unclasp, Leave the wife with heart to break. We will bid the gown-man put Till our thousands we have slain. When we 've drowned their peace and health, Strength and hopes within the bowl, More we 'll ask than life or wealth, We'll require the very soul! Taste not, till ye wait and see LESSON CXXI. To-Morrow.-COTTON. TO-MORROW! didst thou say? Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow. Against thy plenty-who takes thy ready cash, It is a period nowhere to be found In all the hoary registers of time, Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society But soft, my friend-arrest the present moments; And though their flight be silent, and their path trackless They post to heaven and there record their folly. Didst let them pass unnoticed, unimproved; For every fugitive: and when thou thus Imprint the mark of wisdom on its wings; 'Tis of more worth than kingdoms! far more precious Than all the crimson treasures of life's fountain! Oh! let it not elude thy grasp; but like The good old patriarch upon record, Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee, |