Peace, like the blessed sunlight plays

Around his humble cot,

And happy nights and cheerful days

Divide his lowly lot!

III.

And, when the village Sabbath-bell
Rings out upon the gale,

The father bows his head to tell

The music of its tale :

A fresher verdure seems to fill
The fair and dewy sod,
And every infant tongue is still,
To hear the Word of God!

IV.

Oh! happy hearts!-To Him who stills

The ravens when they cry,

And makes the lily 'neath the hills

So glorious to the eye,

The trusting patriarch prays, to bless
His labour with increase;-

Such 'ways are ways of pleasantness,'
And all such 'paths are peace!'

THE SPANISH WIDOW AND HER

CHILDREN.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."

ANTONIA and Juan were the children of a poor Spanish widow, named Paula Sevilla, who lived in a small cabin in one of those secluded valleys which are to be found in the mountainous districts of Spain.

The produce of the chestnut trees that shaded their lonely dwelling, the vegetables and esculent roots that were cultivated in their small plot of garden ground, with the milk of two or three goats, formed the whole subsistence of Paula and her fatherless children: but contentment, which softens the hardest lot, shed its blessings over their cottage, and the widow and her children never broke bread without having first lifted up their hands, in silent gratitude, to Him whose bounty provideth food for his creatures, from the children of men, down to the humblest insect that crawleth in the dust.