What inexpressible joy for me, to look up through the apple-blossoms and the fluttering leaves, and to see God's love there; to listen to the thrush that has built his nest among them, and to feel God's love, who cares for the birds, in every note that swells his little throat; to look beyond to the bright blue depths of the sky, and feel they are a canopy of blessing,--the roof of the house of my Father; that if clouds pass over it, it is the unchangeable light they veil; that, even when the day itself passes, I shall see that the night itself only unveils new worlds of light; and to know that if I could unwrap fold after fold of God's universe, I should only unfold more and more blessing, and see deeper and deeper into the love which is at the heart of all. ELIZABETH CHARLES. June 1 _One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in His temple_.--PS. xxvii. 4. Thy beauty, O my Father! All is Thine; But there is beauty in Thyself, from whence The beauty Thou hast made doth ever flow In streams of never-failing affluence. Thou art the Temple! and though I am lame,-- Lame from my birth, and shall be till I die,-- I enter through the Gate called Beautiful, And am alone with Thee, O Thou Most High! J. W. CHADWICK. Consider that all which appears beautiful outwardly, is solely derived from the invisible Spirit which is the source of that external beauty, and say joyfully, "Behold, these are streamlets from the uncreated Fountain; behold, these are drops from the infinite Ocean of all good! Oh! how does my inmost heart rejoice at the thought of that eternal, infinite Beauty, which is the source and origin of all created beauty!" L. SCUPOLI. June 2 _We all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord_.--2 COR. iii. 18. Then every tempting form of sin, Shamed in Thy presence, disappears, And all the glowing, raptured soul The likeness it contemplates wears. P. DODDRIDGE.