Even from everlasting to everlasting thou art God.

Thou turnest man to destruction;

And sayest, Return, ye children of men.

For a thousand years in thy sight

Are but as yesterday when it is past.

And as a watch in the night.

Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: In the morning they are like grass which groweth up.

In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up;

In the evening it is cut down and withereth.

For we are consumed by thine anger,

And by thy wrath are we troubled.

Thou hast set our iniquities before thee,

Our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.
For all our days are passed away in thy wrath:
We spend our years as a tale that is told.

The days of our years are threescore years and ten;
And if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,
Yet is their strength labor and sorrow;

For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
Who knoweth the power of thine anger,
Even according to thy fear so is thy wrath.
So teach us to number our days,

That we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
Return, O Lord, how long?

And let it repent thee concerning thy servants.
O satisfy us early with thy mercy;

That we may rejoice and be glad all our days.

Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us

And the years wherein we have seen evil.

Let thy work appear unto thy servants,

And thy glory unto their children.

And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us:
And establish thou the work of our hands upon us;

Yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.

PSALM C.

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the Lord with gladness:

Come before his presence with singing.

Know ye that the Lord he is God:

It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves,
We are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,
And into his courts with praise:

Be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting:
And his truth endureth to all generations.

PSALM CIII.

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
Slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
He will not always chide :

Neither will he keep his anger for ever.
He hath not dealt with us after our sins;
Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
For as the heaven is high above the earth,

So great is his mercy toward them that fear him.

As far as the east is from the west,

So far hath he removed our transgressions from us.
Like as a father pitieth his children,

So the Lord pitieth them that fear him.

For he knoweth our frame;

He remembereth that we are dust.

As for man, his days are as grass:

As a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.

For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone,

And the place thereof shall know it no more.

But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him,

And his righteousness unto children's children;

To such as keep his covenant,

And to those that remember his commandments to do them.

The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens;

And his kingdom ruleth over all.

Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength,

That do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his Bless ye the Lord, all ye his hosts;

Ye ministers of his, that do his pleasure.

[word.

Bless the Lord, all his works in all places of his dominion: Bless thou the Lord, O my soul.

PSALM CXLVI.

Praise the Lord, O my soul.

While I live will I praise the Lord :

I will sing praises unto my God while I have any being.
Put not your trust in princes,

Nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help.
His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth;
In that very day his thoughts perish.

Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help,
Whose hope is in the Lord his God:
Which made heaven, and earth,

The sea, and all that therein is:

Which keepeth truth for ever:

Which executeth judgment for the oppressed:

Which giveth food to the hungry.

The Lord looseth the prisoners:

The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind :

The Lord raiseth them that are bowed down:
The Lord loveth the righteous:

The Lord preserveth the strangers;

He relieveth the fatherless and widow:

But the way of the wicked he turneth upside down.

The Lord shall reign for ever,

Even thy God, O Zion, unto all generations.
Praise ye the Lord.

33-HOTSPUR AND THE FOP.

SHAKSPEARE.

My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
But I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dressed,
Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new reaped,
Showed like a stubble-land at harvest home.
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

He gave his nose. And still he smil'd and talk'd;
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

He call'd them "untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly, unhandsome corse,
Betwixt the wind and his nobility."

With many holiday and lady terms

He questioned me; among the rest, demanded

My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting with my wounds, being cold.
To be so pester'd with a popinjay,

Out of my grief and my impatience,

Answered neglectingly-I know not what-
He should or he should not; for he made me mad
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman of guns,
And drums, and wounds (Heaven save the mark!)
And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was spermaceti for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity (so it was)
This villainous saltpetre should be digged
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly and but for these vile guns
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald, disjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answered indirectly, as I said;

And, I beseech you, let not his report

Come current for an accusation

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

34-SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS.

ELIJAH KELLOGG.

It had been a day of triumph in Capua. Lentulus, returning with victorious eagles, had amused the populace with the sports of the amphitheatre to an extent hitherto unknown even in that luxurious city. The shouts of revelry had died away; the roar of the lion had ceased; the last loiterer had retired from the banquet, and the lights in the palace of the victor were extinguished. The moon, piercing the tissue of fleecy clouds, silvered the dew-drops on the corselet of the Roman sentinel, and tipped the dark waters of the Vulturnus with a wavy, tremulous light. No sound was heard save the last sob of some retiring wave, telling its story to the smooth pebbles of the beach; and then all was still as the breast when the spirit has departed. In the deep recesses of the amphitheatre a band of gladiators were assembled, their muscles still knotted with the agony of conflict, the foam upon their lips, the scowl of battle yet lingering on their brows, when Spartacus, starting forth from amid the throng, thus addressed them:

"Ye call me chief; and ye do well to call him chief who, for twelve long years, has met upon the arena every shape of man or beast the broad empire of Rome could furnish, and who never yet has lowered his arm. If there be one among you who can say that ever, in public fight or private brawl, my

actions did belie my tongue, let him stand forth and say it. If there be three in all your company dare face me on the bloody sands, let them come on. And yet I was not always thus-a hired butcher, a savage chief of still more savage men! My ancestors came from old Sparta, and settled among the vineclad rocks and citron groves of Syrasella. My early life ran quiet as the brooks by which I sported; and when, at noon, I gathered the sheep beneath the shade and played upon the shepherd's flute, there was a friend, the son of a neighbor, to join me in the pastime.

"We led our flocks to the same pasture, and partook together our rustic meal. One evening, after the sheep were folded, and we were all seated beneath the myrtle which shaded our cottage, my grandsire, an old man, was telling of Marathon and Leuctra, and how, in ancient times, a little band of Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, had withstood a whole army. I did not then know what war was; but my cheeks burned, I knew not why, and I clasped the knees of that venerable man, until my mother, parting the hair from off my forehead, kissed my throbbing temples, and bade me go to rest, and think no more of those old tales and savage wars. That very night the Romans landed on our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished me trampled by the hoof of the warhorse, the bleeding body of my father flung amid the blazing rafters of our dwelling!

"To-day I killed a man in the arena, and when I broke his helmet clasps, behold, he was my friend. He knew me, smiled faintly, gasped, and died; the same sweet smile upon his lips that I had marked when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled the lofty cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes and bear them home in childish triumph. I told the prætor that the dead man had been my friend, generous and brave, and I begged that I might bear away his body, to burn it on a funeral pile and mourn over its ashes. Ay, upon my knees, amid the dust and blood of the arena, I begged that poor boon, while all the assembled maids and matrons, and the holy virgins they call Vestals, and the rabble, shouted in derision, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome's fiercest gladiator turn pale and tremble at sight of that piece of bleeding clay! And the prætor drew back as I were pollution, and sternly said, 'Let the carrion rot; there are no noble men but Romans !' And so, fellow-gladiators, must you, and so must I, die like dogs. O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Ay, thou hast given to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd-lad,