Bread in the Wilderness.

But Jesus said unto them, "They need not depart; give ye them to eat." And they said unto him, "We have here but five loaves, and two fishes." He said "Bring them hither to me." And he commanded the multitude to sit down on the grass, and took the five loaves, and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed and brake, and gave the loaves to his disciples, and the disciples to the multitude. And they did all eat, and were filled; and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full. And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, besides women and children.-Sr. Matthew xiv. 16-21.

A VOICE amid the desert.

Not of him

Who, in rough garments clad, and locust-fed,
Cried to the sinful multitude, and claim'd
Fruits of repentance, with the lifted scourge
Of terror and reproof. A milder guide,

With gentler tones, doth teach the listening throng.
Benignant pity moved him as he saw
The shepherdless and poor. He knew to touch
The springs of every nature. The high lore
Of Heaven he humbled to the simplest child,
And in the guise of parable allured
The sluggish mind to follow truth and live.

BREAD IN THE WILDERNESS.

They whom the thunders of the Law had stunn'd
Woke to the Gospel's melody with tears;

And the glad Jewish mother held her babe

High in her arms, that its young eye might meet
Jesus of Nazareth.

It was so still,

Though thousands cluster'd there, that not a sound.
Brake the strong spell of eloquence which held
The wilderness in chains, save now and then,
As the gale freshen'd, came the murmur'd speech
Of distant billows, chafing with the shores
Of the Tiberian Sea.

Day wore apace,

Noon hasted, and the lengthening shadows brought
The unexpected eve. They linger'd still,
Eyes fix'd and lips apart; the very breath
Constrained, lest some escaping sigh might break
The tide of knowledge, sweeping o'er their souls
Like a strange, raptured dream. They heeded not
The spent sun, closing at the curtain'd west
His burning journey. What was time to them,
Who heard entranced the eternal Word of Life?

But the weak flesh grew weary. Hunger came,
Sharpening each feature, and to faintness drain'd
Life's vigorous fount. The holy Saviour felt
Compassion for them. His disciples press,
Care-stricken, to his side: "Where shall we find
Bread in this desert?"

Then, with lifted eye,

He bless'd, and brake, the slender store of food,

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BREAD IN THE WILERNESS.

And fed the famish'd thousands. Wondering awe
With renovated strength inspired their souls,
As, gazing on the miracle, they mark'd

The gather'd fragments of their feast, and heard
Such heavenly words as lip of mortal man

Had never uttered.

Thou, whose pitying heart

Yearn'd o'er the countless miseries of those

Whom thou didst die to save, touch thou our souls
With the same spirit of untiring love.
Divine Redeemer! may our fellow-man,
Howe'er by rank or circumstance disjoined,
Be as a brother in his hour of need.

L. H. Sigourney.

The Bay with the Five Loaves.

WHAT time the Saviour spread his feast
For thousands on the mountain's side,
One of the last and least

The abundant store supplied.

Haply the wonders to behold

A boy, 'mid other boys he came,
A lamb of Jesus' fold,

Though now unknown by name.

Or for his sweet, obedient ways,

The Apostles brought him near, to share
Their Lord's laborious days,

His frugal basket bear.

Or might it be his duteous heart

That led him sacrifice to bring,

For his own simple part

To the world's hidden King?

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THE BOY WITH THE FIVE LOAVES.

Well may I guess how glowed his cheek;
How he looked down, half pride, half fear:
Far off he saw one speak

Of him in Jesus' ear.

"There is a lad, five loaves hath he,

And fishes twain, but what are they
Where hungry thousands be?"

Nay, Christ will find a way.

In order, on the fresh green hill,

The mighty shepherd ranks his sheep,

By tens and fifties, still

As clouds when breezes sleep.

Or who can tell the trembling joy

Who paint the grave, endearing look,
When from that favored boy

The wondrous pledge he took?—

Keep thou dear child thine early word;
Bring Him thy best: who knows but He
For his eternal board

May take some gift of thee?

Thou prayest without the veil as yet:

But kneel in faith: an arm benign

Such prayers will duly set

Within the holiest shrine.