"So kneel, dear child, and raise thy voice To her, to take thee to her keeping; That you with Her may yet rejoice, Pure when awake, and pure when sleeping. "Breathe then her name; her prayerful aid Will guide thee, should thy footsteps falter, And, should the enemy invade, Oh! hasten to her flower-deck'd altar. "Pour forth thy soul to God; her prayer Shall ward thy heart, and keep it holy; So only, as you hasten there, And come with aspect meek and lowly. "GOD'S ALTAR. "FATHER OF ALL! To Thee I raise My heart and voice in one accord; Accept my offering of praise, And teach me to fulfil thy word. "Oh! when I see the incense rise Thy altar round with perfume sweet, How longs my heart with echoing sighs To spring to thee with ardour meet. "Oft as I hear thy heavenly voice Pour forth its homage full and free, And long to rise, like it, to Thee. "How often when I see the flowers Bloom on thine altar, fresh and fair, The tapers burn in tranquil light, I give it all to Thee alone, In token of submissive love! "TRIALS. "Should all thy best endeavours fail, Thy single heart and wish to please, Turn not away to pout and rail, Because ye reap no fruit from these. “Ah! if to spite, rebuke, or wrong, Ye humbly bow with aspect mild, Shall gain a blest reward above; "Ah! little do you think how light Christ's burden is, his yoke how sweet,— How, for a little gall and spite, The triumph may be won complete. "Ah! for a drop of mild restraint, Ye may become on earth a saint, "THANKSGIVING AND LOVE. "Soon as God sends His gifts of love, "Humbly call out, with accents meek, Thy gifts are more than my desert! Teach me, dear Lord, not these to seek But thee alone, with all my heart. "In all that comes from Thee, I know "Earth's goods shall drag the soul to Hell! Yet, used aright, may raise to Heaven;Oh! grant me then to use them well, All Thou wilt give, or yet hast given. "Let not the stain of Mammon foul Defile or lure my heart from Thee; In health or sickness, joys or woes, "So only that, in each, or both, "Then let me welcome every rein That curbs my steps in virtue's way, Bright sunshine for one troublous day. "Oh! let whate'er thou deemest best, Not here on earth-but there in Heaven." VOL. VI. "EARTH AND HEAVEN. "Fair are the flowers that bloom on earth, "But flowers the fairest fade and die, "Dear child, there is a flower most fair,- "Wouldst thou that these to thee were given ?— Then know, that all are found in Heaven. An ocean of love infinite, And God Himself to give thee LIGHT." 20 A PROTESTANT'S OPINION OF THE BREVIARY. MR. FREDERICK FABER, in his recent work, thus speaks of the Breviary. "I do not wonder you should envy the Latin service-book; for anything more elevating and magnificent than the Western ritual is not to be conceived. There is not such another glory upon the earth. It gives to men the tongues of angels, it images on its bosom the attitudes of Heaven, and it catches glorious shreds of echo from the eternal worship of the Lamb. It has a language of its own, a language of symbols, more luminous, more mystical, more widely spread than any other language on the earth. I do not wonder you should envy the Latin ritual.” The profane editor of the Record, in alluding to the above extract, observes, that "it is natural that those who admire the ritual which our Reformers sacrificed their lives to abolish, should reproduce and circulate the object of their admiration. Accordingly, a little volume called 'Devotions on the Passion,' has recently issued from the press of Mr. Burns, from which we copy the following rubric from the service for Maundy Thursday at Lauds" (here followed, almost verbatim, the rubric and prayers from our office of Tenebræ.) Alluding to the noise at the conclusion of the prayer Respice, the evangelical scribe thus proceeds: "These are the 'devotional gestures,' the 'attitudes of heaven,' the 'language of symbols,' of which Mr. F. W. Faber is so greatly enamoured! But these semi-dramatic representations are not the sole or chief characteristic of this new infusion of Popery. We turn over a few more leaves, and [dreadful to be read by all pure evangelicals !] come to the following hymn: "O faithful Cross, thou peerless Tree, no forest yields the like of thee, leaf, flower and bud. Sweet is the wood, and sweet its weight, and sweet the nails which penetrate thee, thou sweet wood. Hymn.-Sing a tongue, devoutly sing, the laurels of our glorious King; loud proclaim the triumph high of the Cross's victory; how upon the altar laid, our price the world's Redeemer paid. . Repeat.-O, faithful Cross, thou peerless Tree, no forest yield the like of thee, leaf, flower, and bud. 'V. When our first forefather ate the fruit which wrought his woeful fate, our high Creator piteous mourned His holy law by creatures scorned; and, fain to make the damage good, through Wood revoked the curse of Wood. 'Repeat.-Sweet is the wood, and sweet its weight, and sweet the nails which penetrate thee, thou sweet Wood. |