"bowed the knee to Baal." We believe that He has yet a work for England to do; and we still lean on Him as "our refuge and strength, a very present help "in trouble. Therefore will we not fear, though the "earth be removed, and though the mountains be "carried into the midst of the sea: though the waters “thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains "shake with the swelling thereof." (Psalm xlvi. 1-3.) Our national history has before now seen "the “heathen rage, and the kingdoms moved;" but “He "uttered his voice, and the earth melted." What room for fear then, if "the Lord of hosts is with us, "and the God of Jacob is our refuge." Let us only be sure of this, and we may well bid defiance to every foe. We have the light, let us walk while we have it. The times call for seriousness, for earnest, fervent prayer in private, and in public, and in the family. It is a time when they who fear the Lord should speak often one to another, and wait the fulfilment of his promise, that the Lord will hearken and hear it, and keep a book of remembrance for them that fear the Lord, and think upon his name. "And they "shall be mine, saith the Lord, in that day when I "make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." (Mal. iii. 17.)

"The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man "availeth much." And what may not a parish expect, where prayer is ascending in its purity and fervency from the Church-from the family-and from the closet? It will draw down blessings in showers from the skies-it may put off the day of national calamity

-it will hold up the feeble hands of God's ministers, and be the means of giving us utterance, and enabling us to open our mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the Gospel, that therein we may speak boldly, as we ought to speak. (Eph. vi. 19, 20.) "Come, my people, enter thou into thy chambers, and "shut thy doors about thee: hide thyself as it were a "little moment, until the indignation be overpast." (Isaiah xxvi. 20.)

That these pages may be received in the spirit in which they are presented to you, and attended with a blessing to your souls-that you may be perfect, and of good comfort—that you may be of one mind, and live in peace-and that the God of love and peace may be with you-is the prayer of

Yours, faithfully and affectionately,

FRANCIS KING.

The Church of Rome adduces the passage of St. Luke referred to (page 7) as an argument for prayers for the dead. Supposing so; then the only instance of a prayer for the dead, in the whole of Scripture, would come from a damned soul, and even that prayer is unanswered. But be it remembered, the passage is part of a parable, and though it may suggest the ideas referred to on the above page, it by no means warrants the conclusion, that souls in hell are conscious of what passes on earth, much less that they offer up prayers for sinners here.

B

SCRIPTURAL PRAYERS

AND HYMNS.

SUNDAY MORNING.

"How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts!

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My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.

"Yea, the sparrow hath found her an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of Hosts, my King, and my God.

"Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee.

"For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand." -Ps. lxxxiv. 1, 2, &c.

HYMN.

1 DEAR is the hallowed morn to me,

When village bells awake the day,
And by their sacred minstrelsy,
Call me from earthly cares away.

2 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.

3 And dear to me the loud Amen,

Which echoes through the blest abode, Which swells and sinks, and swells again, Dies on the walls but lives to God.

4 And dear the rustic harmony,

Sung with the pomp of village art; That holy, heav'nly melody,

The music of a thankful heart.

5 In secret I have often pray'd,

And still the anxious tear would fall; But, on thy sacred altar laid,

The fire descends and dries them all.

6 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.

7 Then dear to me the Sabbath morn,

The village bells, the shepherd's voice;
These oft have found my heart forlorn,
And always bid that heart rejoice.

8 Go, man of pleasure, strike thy lyre,
Of broken Sabbaths sing the charms;

Ours be the prophet's car of fire,

That bears us to a Father's arms.

-Cunningham.