gods, and serve them;-I denounce unto thee this day that thou shalt surely perish, and that thou shalt not prolong thy days upon the land whither thou passest over Jordan to go to possess it.-I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.”— Still, not satisfied with this, and desirous of adding every aid-every precaution that could give strength to the good resolutions of his people-he composed for them a song, that by learning it, repeating it, and teaching it to their children, they might carry continually in their memory a record and reminder of all these things, which might render unnecessary for any ordinary purpose, a frequent reference to the written book of the law. It was a song of the people-a national anthem:-to be heard often in the stillness of the night: to be chanted as they marched onwards through the land of promise: to be sung upon their solemn festivals to be remembered in their night-watches upon the house tops of their walled cities. It was the last Legacy of Moses to his people. Then, with great solemnity, he delivered the book of the Law into the keeping of the Levites, with this parting command, that at the end of every seven years, in the solemnity of the year of release, in the feast of Tabernacles, this law should be read before all Israel, in their hearing-" Gather the people together, men. and women, and children, and the stranger that is within thy gates, that they may hear, and that they may learn, and fear the Lord your God, and observe to do all the words of the Law; and that their children who have not known anything, may hear, and learn to fear the Lord your God, as long as ye live in the land whither ye go over Jordan to possess it." Deut. xxxi. 12, 13. And now it was done. The last word was said :the last direction given. He was ready-he had nothing now to do but to die ;-and he waited quietly for the call of God. How calmly, how solemnly, how peacefully, would he await that call! No regretting:no repining: no fearing:-no failing of faith: no gathering of clouds and darkness around that hour. The voice of God within him would seem to say,"Good and faithful servant! well hast thou done." His own heart would gratefully reply-" Here I am: do with me as seemeth good unto thee." - God called him up to the summit of Mount Nebo, and showed him all that part of the Promised Land that lay nearest to where he stood. He said it was a fair land. After the barren desert, it looked truly as if it might be a land flowing with milk and honey. Did Moses sigh as he thought that he must not enter there? We cannot think it. We can imagine him, after gazing forward on the scene that lay before him—that scene of promised rest and plenty, towards which he had been so long journeying we can imagine him turning again to look upon the wilderness that lay behind him, and regarding it with feelings of earnest, proud, and steadfast affection. There was his home: not among fertile plains-by the side of gushing waters-or in the shade of waving groves-but amid the bare mountain and the burning wilderness, amid silence, and solitude, and desolation. There had been the scene of his labours, of his trials, of his duties, of his privileges. There he had grown up to manhood. There his character had ripened and strengthened, and expanded into the perfect fulness of its stature. There he had lived, and loved, and acted, and enjoyed, and suffered. There he had known the free life of an obscure, unhonoured wanderer,--and there the life of toil, anxiety, and burden,—which beuds beneath the weight of greatness-which whitens the head with cares before it is white with years-and condemns its wearer to become the servant and the slave of the multitude he rules There, too, in that desert, Moses had spoken with God;—there he had seen His glory-there he had grown into some humble, earthly likeness of His nature. Was not the Desert dear to him? the wide, wild, free, rugged, solemn, awful, Desert? Would he wish to live in another land, or to lie down among the sepulchres of another people? No: where he had lived, there let him die. Where he had served God so well, there let his spirit return to Him who gave it. over. 66 66 He died. Did he die? God knoweth. He came not again unto his people. That was all they could learn. 'He was not." No man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." God took his servant to Himself. Through the gates of death, or without passing through the gates of death,-God took him to Himself. Fear not for Moses. Seek not his resting place. Enquire not behind what cloud of darkness or of glory his sun went down. He who had served God so faithfully, God would care for. Canaan was not the only Land of Promise. In our Father's house are many mansions." 66 THE PRECIOUS PLANT. Two little girls, named Bridget and Susan, were one day going to the market of a neighbouring town, not far from the little village at which their parents lived— each of them carried a large basket full of fruit upon her head.-Bridget was continually murmuring and sighing as they went along, while Susan, on the contrary, laughed and chatted the whole way. 66 How can you laugh and be so merry?" said Bridget at last, in a fretful, complaining tone of voice; "your basket is just as large and heavy as mine, and you are certainly not by any means stronger than I am.” 66 Ah," replied Susan, smiling, "I have a certain little plant which I have laid upon my burden, and consequently, I scarcely feel the weight of it!" "Indeed!" cried Bridget, looking at her with earnest curiosity and astonishment; "what a precious little plant that must be! how I should like to lighten the weight of my basket with it; do tell me, dear Susan, what is its name?" Susan replied, "the little plant, that makes every burden light, is,-Patience!-Remember, dear Bridget, 'He will his burden ever lighter find, Who bears that burden with a patient mind."" ROMAN CHRISTIANS. (Continued from page 84.) “I HAVE been talking with one of the Nazarenes," said Marcus, as in the cool of the evening he was walking with Philip beyond the walls, with the bridle of the horse thrown over his arm. "Theirs is a strange faith! They seem to believe that one Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, long promised to the Jews-"And he enumerated the chief points of the Christian faith, finally asking his friend "what he thought of such a belief?" 66 Truly, I know not," answered Philip. "I, too, have heard their preachers, and came away startled and confused. Either the wonders which they relate are true, and their faith divine, or the Nazarites are blinded and wicked men, who seek to turn the world upside down with the creed they preach." 66 "I shall soon be here again," Marcus said, "and then intend to hear more of this. Let us go together, Philip; if it be truth, we must follow it, and if not, we can at least warn our fellow-citizens against it—what say you?” Willingly," answered his friend, "there can be no harm in hearing from the lips of those who follow it, the creed of their Messiah. But see, the sun is setting, your sister will be expecting you; and, till you are quite recovered you must take care of yourself: so fare you well." And as he spoke he took the bridle from the hand of Marcus, and held the horse while he mounted, and then, with a wave of the hand and a parting salute, turned again towards Rome; leaving his friend to gallop homewards. "Strange," thought this latter, "if there be nothing in this faith these men should be so earnest and intent. I will visit this old man, and hear still more of what he has to tell. But still, the old belief has had for disciples wiser men than myself-the gods and goddesses pratect us all, the priests tell us, and why should I doubt it? However, I will see this man again. And so, talking to himself, and riding swiftly, he entered the shadow of the hills, and, as usual, found Mary waiting to receive him, as he rode up the rocky pathway. Two days after, Marcus was again in Rome, and, accompanied by Philip, went to that quarter of the town to which the Nazarite had directed him. On knocking at the door of the humble house, they were admitted and found the old man alone. He showed great pleasure on seeing them, and eagerly entered into conversation with the young soldier, while Philip sat beside, and listened attentively. "And you tell me," said Marcus, after a pause, “that this Jesus was a man without guile, and who went about doing good; yet who was nevertheless put to a cruel death-how may I believe this ?" 66 Stranger things have happened than that, my son,” said the old man mournfully-" But listen further. Hearken to the commandments which he left for us. He that would be my disciple, let him take up his cross daily, and follow me.' "He that believeth in me, though he were dead yet shall he live'”—And so he went on, enthusiastically relating portions of the life of Christ, while the two friends sat, utterly unconscious of how time was passing, till, at length, Marcus stopped him, saying. "It is enough, no further! Oh, what may I think?" He pushed back the hair from his forehead, damp with emotion, and then suddenly rising, left the hut, followed by Philip, and walked hurriedly away by the bye streets, till he reached the open ground beyond the walls. There he paced rapidly backwards and forwards, his friend keeping close at his side. 66 Philip, Philip, what must I think of this ?" he 66 can I believe that all is not as the Nazarite said? cried, No, no. And then, must I follow this despised faith? must I be numbered with these persecuted men? must I leave the faith of my fathers to follow Jesus of Nazareth ?" "Dear friend, decide not yet-hear this Christian once again, and then decide upon this weighty question. You are excited, Marcus; you will make yourself ill; remember you are not strong yet-think this over quietly." "Strong! I am strong enough," cried his friend impetuously. Philip, what I have heard to day has sunk into my heart-is written there in fiery letters |