Winter chill shall wander hither,
Blighting all that summer brings :
Hark, we whisper, as they wither,
There are brighter, better things.
Where the dark trees arching grimly,
In greenwood, make cloistral shade;
See, strange shadows, floating dimly,
Beckon down the solemn glade.

And faint streaks of pale blue heaven,
Calm and pure look through the trees:
Praise, to our Great King be given,

There are better things than these.

The song ceased; and Lisette and Sinda looked at one another, and trembled. Yet they longed to pursue the haunted path.

They had gone a few paces, when there broke through the trees, a little way before them, one, whose garb and aspect suited ill with that lonely, and solemn place. He was a tall, powerful man, of lordly mien, clothed in rich attire. There was a studied gentleness in his look, as he drew near to them; but the glance of his eyes was fearful to meet, for each one was red and lurid as a burning coal; and Sinda started back with his accustomed shudder, for well he knew the Lord of the wood.

"Wherefore go ye by this path ?" said he; "it leadeth not to the villages, nor to the market places, nor to the spots where men make mirth in the forest. What would ye, wandering from the broad, pleasant road, that I have made for my people through the haunted wood?" Sinda looked reproachfully at Lisette, and drawing backward, was about to excuse himself, when the Master, perceiving the child in her bosom, said, with a smile of exultation, "Ha! I have another subject. Give him unto me, woman, that I may mark him with my mark, to be my own for ever." And he stretched forth his strong

arm to take the child.

The babe had been sleeping peaceably hitherto, but he woke with that stern voice; and behold, the evil expression came over his little countenance, and he stretched out his arms toward the Lord of the wood, as though he longed to be his subject. But Lisette shrunk back with a shudder and a scream, saying, "Nay, nay, my Lord, I would not have him thine."

"He is mine-mine by an ancient compact," said the Lord. "His forefather gave him up to me, and I claim my own. Give him, woman. You have no power to retain him; you are yourself my slave." And his fiery eyes glowed like the flames of a volcano, and his strong arm came nearer and nearer to seize the babe. Lisette's limbs grew stiff, and her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth, and it seemed her arms had no power to withhold the child. In her terror and agony she looked up through the branches to the calm, clear Heaven, whence she had heard the sweet voices; and her heart called for help, though her lips could frame no sound.

"Give him unto me," said the Lord of the wood, again. "He is mine-mine by an ancient compact.'

"I have cancelled the bond," said a voice, so deep, and sweet, and clear, that it filled the whole forest path, and thrilled through every nerve of those who heard it.

“I have bought him with a price, he shall be mine:" and therewith there came a light in the path, so bright that Lisette and Sinda, sinking on their knees, shaded their eyes with their hands, and could see no form for this unapproachable brightness. The hand of the Lord of the forest was laid on the child, and Lisette could feel him tearing it from her bosom, but at that voice he relinquished his grasp; and when the father and mother looked round again, his tall form had vanished from before them, like an evil dream, or the shadow of a passing cloud; the bright light, too, had departed; and they arose, and pursued their way silently along the narrow path.

Still the wind sighed mournfully through the arched branches, but all the wood was still. Yet Sinda sometimes thought he heard footsteps coming after; and when he turned his head, he discerned dimly the Lord of the forest following them through the trees. Sometimes he was close at his side, for the path was very narrow; sometimes he seemed to change places, and his red eyes glowed through the branches on the side where Lisette walked.

Now, ever and anon, as they journeyed forward, they would meet with others going the same way; and these men were armed more or less, and each had the same device on his forehead and on his breast that the fisher and his wife had noticed before; so they marvelled at them greatly, and the others seemed to regard them with equal astonishment. Lisette had once or twice resolved to address some of these, and ask them of that strange path, for they seemed a kind and gentle people, but her heart always failed her, and they passed several without any communication. At length, they overtook one whose garb and mien were more remarkable than the others: he was an old man, bearing in his hand a crooked staff, such as shepherds use; he had on his head a pointed cap of strange pattern, in his hand was an open book, and at his girdle a key. The old man's look was very mild, his long white beard fell almost to his waist, and when he saw that the twain regarded him attentively, he turned and spoke to them.

"We are the vassals of the Lord of the wood," said Sinda in answer

to his question, "and we walk through the haunted forest seeking a deliverer for our child."

The old man said, "I am the servant of the Great Deliverer, of Him Who dwelleth now in glory inapproachable; yet did He once come down and walk with us below, and made for us this path through the forest. See you not there where He broke through yon thicket of brambles? Those are His footsteps." And Sinda and Lisette looked, and saw that the rugged pathway was stained with blood.

Then did the old man look on his book, and sweet and beautiful were the words he said. He told how all the place-wood, and earth,

and sky-belonged to a mighty King, and how he who was now called the Lord of the wood had by guile deceived him to whom the King had first given it in possession, even their forefather, who had sold himself and his children to this foreign Lord by a shameful compact. Then he read from the book how the yoke of the tyrant was heavy and cruel, and that men groaned beneath it, and yet could not free themselves, for they were all sold, and no slave could redeem himself or his fellows. Then he told how One Who sat at His Father's right hand, in a beautiful land far off, said unto the King, "Lo, I come," and He had come to break the yoke of the oppressor-to pay the price of the bond, (and it was a cruel price, for that agreement might not be cancelled but with blood,) therefore had He given His own blood. He had laboured on in love and patience till the great deliverance was accomplished, nor had refused toil, contempt, and sorrow, nor had shrunk from an agonizing death.

And ever, as he spoke these precious words, the old man paused between, and lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, and praised the Great Deliverer, saying, "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for He hath visited and redeemed his people." "Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."

When the old man first began to speak, his speech fell soft as the dew of even, sweet as the honey the wild bee finds in the flower-cups in the forest, and Lisette and Sinda lent a wondering ear. But as he went on, his words fell dimmer and dimmer on their ears, for the Lord of the wood stood behind them, and he sang a loud wild song. It seemed that the old man heard it not, but it rang in Sinda's ear, and Lisette might not hear for the noise; and ever thus the burden ran :

Trust not ye, that hope has found ye,

Ye are sold to me anew.

Turn, and live where joys surround ye,
Mercy can do nought for you.

So a heavy gloom settled on the soul of Sinda, and Lisette hung her head upon his shoulder, and wept.

"Return, return," whispered their Lord, "the summer months are fair, the lake ripples by your peaceful cottage, the voices of joy are in the wood; ye shall have many pleasant hours, sporting in its flowery places, or sitting together on the green slope by the water-side with your fair boy gamboling before you. Yonder path is long, and dark, and rugged. The old man deceives you; there is no deliverance worth such toil."

"Enter ye in at the strait gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be that go in thereat; because strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it,” said the old man in a deep serious voice.

But Sinda's soul went back to his accustomed haunts, to the sweet low dwelling, where he had spent so many hours, and he feared to trust the long solemn path. Lisette, too, forgot to look up to the clear

sky shining through the trees, whence there came now a low wailing sound, like the voices of spirits in sorrow, that soon was lost upon their ears, in the wild peal of triumphant laughter that burst from the Lord of the wood behind them.

"Come back, come back," he said again, "in haste to your quiet home. This spot is mysterious and dreadful; you have not power to go on. Remember you not the night long ago, when you danced in the forest, and drank rich wine, and bowed down to the golden image, in the cedar grove, and burnt incense to the fair round Moon, the Queen of Heaven, and vowed to be mine for ever? He, the King of all, will not pardon this. You have no power to break my chain." "With Him is mercy, with Him is perfect forgiveness,” said the old man, solemnly."

But the words fell vainly on Sinda's ear. "Not for me, not for me," he answered, "I have been too long the vassal of the Lord of the wood. I have not strength to break my chain. I cannot leave my old accustomed life. I must dwell and serve as my sires have dwelt and served:" and he took Lisette's hand, and they would have turned backward, but with the action the babe was moved where it lay, and it cried aloud.

"Yet for this child," said Sinda, for he met the mother's look of agony, "he is not yet enslaved, save for our sake. I would give him to the Great Deliverer, if, indeed, he will receive such."

"Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven," said the grey-haired man, and a smile of heavenly joy played about his lips.

"He is too young yet," whispered the Lord of the wood. "Suffer him, at least, to choose for himself; he cannot yet discern good and evil. Bear him home with you, even as he is, for a little while longer;" and he stretched his long arm through the trees, and his hand crept stealthily over the shoulder of Sinda to take the babe, as Lisette held it close prest to her and to him.

But now the aged man stood forth, and his eye was bright and stern; he took from his girdle the mysterious symbol, that Lisette and Sinda had observed before: it was formed of two pieces of wood laid across one another.

"In the name of Him Who said unto me, ‘Feed my lambs,' I bid thee depart," he said, and touched the grasping hand. Instantly it was withdrawn, and, with a yell of terror and defiance, the Lord of the forest was gone.

THE EIGHTY-FIFTH PSALM.

ST. AUGUSTINE.

"We have besought the Lord our God to show His mercy upon us and grant us his salvation." This was indeed spoken of in prophecy, when

first these Psalms were uttered and written; but with regard to this present time, the Lord has shown His mercy to the Gentiles, and

granted to them His salvation. He
has shown it, but many will not be
healed so as to see what He shows
them. But since it is He who heals
the sight of the heart, so that it may
behold Him, therefore, after it is
said, "Show Thy mercy upon us ;"
he adds, as if speaking to many
blind ones, who would say, "How
shall we see when He begins to
show us?"- -"And grant us Thy
salvation!" For, by granting His
salvation, He heals that in us by
which we are enabled to behold what
He shows: He heals not, as a physi-
cian, so as to show that light to
those whom He has cured; and the
light which He is to show is one
thing; while the physician, who heals
the sight to which he shows that
light-which is not the very light-
is another. Not so is the Lord our
God;
for He is Himself the Physi-
cian who heals our sight, and the
Light itself which we are enabled to
behold. Let us then, according to
the shortness of our time, briefly run
through the whole Psalm, as well as
we can, and as far as the Lord gives
ability.

but that we may weep before him. For some have mocked, and have been destroyed by devils; as in the Book of Kings, the children mocked Elisha, and cried after him, "Go up, bald head; go up, bald head!" and the bears came forth from the wood, and ate up those children who had wickedly mocked him, and their parents wept over their fate. This event foretold, by a kind of prophecy, our Lord Jesus Christ, Whose coming was then future: for He, since He was crucified in Calvary, (the place of a bare scull,) was derided by the mocking Jews, as a bald one. But we, if we believe in Him, are His children. To us, therefore, is the Psalm sung, when it is written in the title, "For the sons of Core;" for we are the children of the Bridegroom. Because He is indeed the Bridegroom, giving to His spouse a pledge-His own blood, and His Holy Spirit, with which He enriches us meanwhile in our present pilgrimage; but His hidden riches He still reserves for us. And since He has given such a pledge from His treasures, what must be those treasures which are yet reserved?

The title of it is, " For the end, to the sons of Core; a Psalm." We To Him, accordingly, Who was yet cannot understand any end, except to come, the song of the Prophet that spoken of by the Apostle: "For points; and he makes use of words Christ is the end of the Law for that signify what is past; speaking righteousness to every one that be- of things future as if they were allieveth. Therefore, when first it ready done, since with God, indeed, was put in the title of the Psalm even what is still future is already "for the end," our hearts were di- accomplished. There, then, the Prorected towards Christ. If we fix phet saw things future to us, yet past our thoughts upon Him, we shall in His providence and certain prenot err, because He is Himself the destination; as he says, likewise, in Truth to which we are pressing on- that Psalm wherein all acknowledge wards, He is Himself the Way by that he is speaking of Christ,-for which we may run. But what does he relates, as we read in the Gospel, this mean "For the sons of Core?""They pierced my hands and my Core is translated from the Hebrew feet, they counted all my bones; into Latin, Calvus, which signifies bald. So "the sons of Core" are "the sons of him that is bald." And who is that bald one? I ask this, not that we may turn him into ridicule,

I Rom. x. 4.

they considered and beheld me; they have divided for themselves my garments, and upon my vesture have they cast lots!" When this Psalm

2 Psalm xxii. 17, 18. In our translation it is somewhat different from the Vulgate, which St. Augustine used.