;
And the depths of grace exploring,
By the light shed from above;
Show us whence life's waters flow,
And where trees of blessing grow,
Bearing fruit of heavenly bloom,
Breathing Eden's rich perfume.

Love to God and man expressing,
In thy course of mercy speed;
Lead to springs of joy and blessing,
And with heavenly manna feed
Scotland's children high and low,
Till the Lord they truly know:
As to us our fathers told,
He was known by them of old.

To the young, in season vernal,
Jesus in His grace disclose;
As the tree of life eternal,
'Neath whose shade they may repose,
Shielded from the noontide ray,
And from ev'ning's tribes of prey;
And refresh'd with fruits of love,
And with music from above.

CHRISTIAN HERALD! may the blessing
Of the Highest thee attend,
That, this chiefest boon possessing,
Thou may'st prove thy country's friend
Tend to make our land assume
Something of its former bloom,
When the dews of heaven were seen
Sparkling on its pastures green,

When the voice of warm devotion
To the throne of God arose--
Mighty as the sound of ocean,
Calm as nature in repose;
Sweeter, than when Araby
Perfume breathes from flow'r and tree,
Rising 'bove the shining sphere,
To Jehovah's list'ning ear."

It is time we were going--but we wish to hear how thy voice sounds,
Christian, when it reads. So read these same verses, first "into
yourself," and then to us. They speak of mercies above your
comprehension, and ours, and all men's; for they speak of the infinite
goodness and mercy of God--but though thou hast committed in thy short
life no sins, or but small, towards thy fellow-creatures--how couldst
thou? yet thou knowest we are all sinful in His eyes, and thou knowest
on whose merits is the reliance of our hopes of Heaven. Thank you,
Christian. Three minutes from two by your house-clock--she gives a clear
warning--and three minutes from two by our watch--rather curious this
coincidence to such a nicety--we must take up our Crutch and go. Thank
thee, bonny wee Christian--in wi' the bannocks intil our pouch--but we
fear you must take us for a sad glutton.

"Zickety, dickety, dock,
The mouse ran up the nock;
The nock struck one,
Down the mouse ran,
Zickety, dickety, dock."