But

without ever satisfying himself that he had found a fit model for the countenance for Judas. in the meantime, the Prior of the convent, a bad man, and his enemy, went on accusing him of purposely delaying to finish, and of wasting the salary given to him; till the Duke of Milan, his employer, insisted that the painting should be finished and exhibited by the next Maundy Thursday, or else Leonardo should be dismissed in disgrace.

In a passion, Leonardo went to his picture, and at once filled in the head of Judas with the likeness of the Prior, whose expression, rendered a little worse, did indeed suit with the character of the traitor. He then turned to the dim pale outline of the other face which remained to be done; but behold! he was utterly unable to form those sacred features in his imagination, far more to trace them with his pencil.

The indulgence of malice, and hatred, had taken from him the power of conceiving the image of Love and Holiness.

He gave up the vain attempt, and awaited, in dread, the appointed day. The convent gates were opened, and all stood in wonder at the glorious beauty of his work. Unfinished as it was, the holy countenance much better fulfilled the idea of what it should be, than any other representation that ever had been seen; and the whole design was such, that all could see and own its superiority.

But alas! Leonardo could not triumph. He saw that where one gazed in devotion at our Blessed Lord in His meekness, hundreds turned with spiteful or curious delight, to recognize the

portrait of the Prior. He knew that he had stained what might have been a precious offering, by giving way to his anger, and had even made it an occasion of falling to others, and he turned from it in shame instead of exultation.

And, says the legend, Leonardo's belief was that the heavenly beauty of the face, was owing to no pencil of his. While he had lain before the painting in humiliation and despair he had fallen asleep, and thought he saw in his dream the form of the good old man who had first taught him his art, now long since dead, descend, and with his own hand, fill up the imperfect tracing of his drawing; then turn, and tell him that for his earnestness and devotion, and repentance, this had been vouchsafed him, that one who had seen our Lord in glory, and whom death had freed from earthly taint, should come to perfect his work. But on account of his sin of passion and revenge, his work should early perish, and though somewhat of its beauty should be preserved, by numberless copies, yet that none should ever render it fully, not one should ever bear away the expression of countenance traced by the hand from heaven.

And thus in all our many prints of the Last Supper by Leonardo, there is not one in which the principal figure is fully like that in the original painting.

LESSONS ON THE PSALMS.

No. V.

PSALM XIX.

1 The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handy-work.

2 One day telleth another: and one night certifieth another.

3 There is neither speech nor language, but their voices are heard among them.

4 Their sound is gone out into all lands: and their words into the ends of the world.

5 In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun: which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run his course.

6 It goeth forth from the uttermost part of the heaven, and runneth about unto the end of it again: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

7 The law of the Lord is an undefiled law, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, and giveth wisdom unto the simple.

8 The statutes of the Lord are right, and rejoice the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, and giveth light unto the eyes.

9 The fear of the Lord is clean, and endureth for ever the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

10 More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey, and the honeycomb.

11 Moreover, by them is Thy servant taught: and in keeping of them there is great reward.

12 Who can tell how oft he offendeth: O cleanse Thou me from my secret faults.

13 Keep Thy servant also from presumptuous sins, lest they get the dominion over me: so shall I be undefiled, and innocent from the great offence.

14 Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be alway acceptable in Thy sight,

15 O Lord: my strength, and my redeemer.

THIS beautiful Psalm is one of those appointed by the Church for Christmas-Day. Like many others, it teaches that God has so framed this heaven and this earth that they should be to us a visible revelation of His wisdom, power, and glory, and of His dealings towards us, and of our own uncertain mortal life, and future destinies. To rich and poor alike the natural world declares the same truths. It bids all remember the covenanted mercy of God in the rainbow; His awful anger in the thunderstorm, and the forked lightning, which can rive and blast the strong oak. His grace in the gentle dew, which steals down in the evening and freshens the parched earth and thirsty flowers; His power in the wind, which bloweth where it listeth; and the mighty billows of the sea, which carry the vessels that traverse them up to the heavens, and plunge them down into the deep, so that the souls of men melt away because of the trouble. And if the things made, be thus beautiful and wondrous, what must be the power and the wisdom of Him who made them? Nor is this all: we are taught our spiritual dependence upon Him by having to wait on His mercy for the fruitfulness of the earth. Every year of our lives we are taught the same lesson, that we plough and sow in vain, unless it pleases God to send us the necessary alternation of rain and sunshine, without which the seed must perish. It is His sun, and wind, and dews, which must aid our work, or it will be unsuccessful; we cannot subdue and replenish the earth without His assistance, any more than we can subdue our own souls without the constant aid of His Holy Spirit.

He has made all things around to warn us of the briefness of our life here, and of the certainty of life hereafter. "All flesh must die," is the decree which every autumn proclaims amidst its bare woods and fields, and perishing flowers. "All flesh must rise again," is the promise of every spring amidst the thousand tokens of renewed life which clothe the earth with verdure.

It is not, therefore, an empty figure of speech, when the Psalmist calls on sun, moon, and stars, earth, and sea, to praise the Lord, for they magnify Him by their beauty before the eyes of men and angels. They praise Him by teaching us some attribute of His divinity, or some lesson concerning our own mortal, or immortal state.

Of all the Universe there is nothing which speaks to us so plainly of our Maker as that wonderful body of light we call the sun, set in the sky as a visible emblem of our Blessed Saviour, spoken of in Scripture as the "Sun of Righteousness."

"The heavens declare the glory of God." For what can be more glorious than the sky at night, with its thousand, thousand stars, and beautiful moon gliding amongst them, and making the clouds so soft and white as she passes along.

In the Bible the second verse is translated, "Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth language," but the meaning is the

same.

It is a poetical figure; the Psalmist representing day and night as delivering, as it were, their message concerning the glory of day to the next day and night, and so on through all time. He