116 BATTLES OF THE BIBLE.

GIDEON.

‘* Dear is the hallow’d morn to me,
When village bells awake the day,
And by their sacred minstrelsy,
Call me from earthly cares away.

‘* And dear to me the winged hour,
Spent in thy hallow'd courts, O Lord,
To feel devotion’s soothing power,
And catch the manna of thy word.

“* And dear the rustic harmony,
Sung with the pomp of village art ;
That holy, heavenly melody,
The music of a thankful heart.

“ Oft when the world with iron hands,
Has bound me in its six-days’ chain,
This bursts them like the strong man’s bands,
And lets my spirit loose again, ”
CUNNINGHAM.

Tae Sabbaths we spent at our grandfather’s were parti-
cularly happy days. I never knew any one who seemed
so thoroughly to en joy the Sabbath as grandfather.
Every day he was cheerful and kindly, but on the day of
rest he seemed to have a special foretaste of the happi-
ness of the Eternal Sabbath, of which he liked so well to
speak. It was not exactly a day of rest to him, for the
longest walk he ever took was to church ; yet, whether