November 1.

THE GATHERING OF THE CHURCH.

WHEREFORE shrink and say, ""Tis vain ;
In their hour hell-powers must reign ;
Vainly, vainly would we force
Fatal Error's torrent course;
Earth is mighty, we are frail,
Faith is gone, and Hope must fail.”

Yet along the Church's sky
Stars are scattered, pure and high ;
Yet her wasted gardens bear
Autumn violets, sweet and rare-
Relics of a spring-time clear,
Earnests of a bright new year.

Israel yet hath thousands sealed,
Who to Baal never kneeled ;
Seize the banner, spread its fold!
Seize it with no faltering hold!
Spread its foldings high and fair,
Let all see the Cross is there!

What, if to the trumpet's sound
Voices few come answering round?
Scarce a votary swell the burst,
When the anthem peals at first?
God hath sown and He will reap ;
Growth is slow when roots are deep:

He will aid the work begun,
For the Love of His Dear Son ;
He will breathe in their true breath,
Who, serene in prayer and faith,
Would our dying embers fan
Bright as when their glow began.

J. KEBLE.

November 2.

ALL SOULS.

THEY whose course on earth is o'er,
Think they of their brethren more?
They before the Throne who bow,
Feel they for their brethren now?

Yea, the dead in Christ have still
Part in all our joy and ill;
Keeping all our steps in view,
Guiding them, it may be, too.

We by enemies distrest,-
They in Paradise at rest;
We the captives, they the freed,—
We and they are one indeed :

One, in all we seek or shun;
One, because our Lord is One;
One in heart and one in love;
We below and they above.

Those who many a land divides,
Many mountains, many tides,
Have they with each other part?
Have they fellowship at heart?

Each to each may be unknown,
Wide apart their lots be thrown;
Differing tongues their lips may speak,
One be strong, and one be weak:

Yet in Sacrament and prayer
Each with other hath a share;
Hath a share in tear and sigh,
Watch, and fast, and Litany.

With each other join they here
In affliction, doubt, and fear;
That hereafter they may be
Joined, O Lord, in bliss with Thee!

So with them our hearts we raise,
Share their work and join their praise ;
Rendering worship, thanks and love,
To the Trinity above. Amen.

November 3.

A FISHER'S SERMON.

J. M. NEALE.

WHAT! and shall He wait,

And must He wait, not only till we say,

"Good Lord, the house is clean, the hearth is swept, The children sleep, the mackerel boats are in,

And all the nets are mended; therefore I

Will slowly to the door and open it,”—

But must He also wait where still, behold!

He stands and knocks, while we do say, "Good Lord, The gentlefolk are come to worship here,

And I will up and open to Thee soon;

But first I pray a little longer wait,

For I am taken up with them; my eyes

Must needs regard the fashion of their clothes,
And count the gains I think to make by them;

For sooth they are of much account, good Lord, Therefore have patience with me-wait, dear Lord! Or come again ?"

What! must He wait for thisFor this! Ay, He doth wait for this, and still Waiting for this, He patient, raileth not; Waiting for this, e’en this, He saith, “Behold! I stand at the door and knock."

O patient hand!
Knocking and waiting-knocking in the night
When work is done-I charge you by the sea
Whereby you fill your children's mouths, and by
The might of Him who made it-fishermen !
Blessed for ever, that ye answer Him!
Open the door with shame if ye have sinned;
If ye be sorry open it with sighs.

Albeit the place be bare for poverty,
And comfortless for lack of plenishing,

Be not abashed for that, but open it,

And take Him in that comes to sup with thee: "Behold!" He saith, "I stand at the door and knock."

Now hear me; there be troubles in this world
That no man can escape, and there is one
That lieth hard and heavy on my soul,

Concerning that which is to come.—

I say

As a man that knows what earthly trouble means,
I will not bear this One-I cannot bear

This One-I cannot bear the weight of you—
You-every one of you, body and soul;
You, with the care you suffer and the loss
That you sustain; you, with the growing up
To peril, may be with the growing old
To want, unless before I stand with you
At the great white throne, I may be free of all,
And utter to the full what shall discharge

Mine obligation: nay, I will not wait
A day, for every time the black clouds rise,
And the gale freshens, still I search my soul
To find if there be aught that can persuade
To good, or aught forsooth that can beguile
From evil, that I (miserable man!

If that be so!) have left unsaid, undone.
So that when any risen from sunken wrecks,
Or rolled in by the billows to the edge

Of the Everlasting strand, what time the sea
Gives up her dead, shall meet me, they may say
Never, "Old man, you told us not of this;
You left us fisherlads, that had to toil

Ever in danger of the secret stab

Of rocks, far deadlier than the dagger: winds,
Of breath more murderous than the cannon's; waves,
Mighty to rock us to our death; and gulfs,
Ready beneath to suck and swallow us in :
This crime be on your head, and as for us—
What shall we do? but rather,"-nay, not so,
I will not think it; I will leave the deed,
Appealing but to life: I am afraid

Of you, but not so much if you have sinned
As for the doubt if sin shall be forgiven.

See! I will show at whose unopened doors
He stands and knocks, that you may never say,
"I am too mean, too ignorant, too lost,

He knocks at other doors, but not at mine."

JEAN INGELOW, Brothers.

November 4.

THE Spirit of this age spoke on a certain day : "Rise up, my child, and cast thy early faith away."