Strong as are the precepts of Scripture enjoining obedience to rulers, I apprehend no one will insist that they are binding or applicable in cases where the law of the land interferes with the law of God. On this point Scripture furnishes various illustrations. The prophet Daniel disregarded the decree of Darius, by continuing to pray during the thirty days within which that act of devotion was declared penal. The Three Children of the Captivity chose rather to be cast into a burning fiery furnace than obey the edict of Nebuchadnezzar and worship the golden image. The Apostles Peter and John, when "commanded not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesus," answered the Rulers, "Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye; for we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard." And when on a subsequent occasion being again brought before the same tribunal and asked, "Did we not strictly command you that ye should not teach in this name?"-Peter and the other apostles' reply was, "We ought to obey God rather than men.

In strict accordance with the instances just quoted, I might refer, if needful, to the example of many of the noble martyrs who, in past ages, sealed their testimony with their blood; and to numberless instances, in the early days of the Society of Friends, when the Conventicle Act declared the ordinary meetings for worship held by Friends to be illegal.

But, above all these, we have the injunction of our Saviour Himself, "Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's." Here it is distinctly intimated that there is a province with which Cæsar, the impersonation of earthly power, must not interfere; and if Cæsar oversteps his rightful bounds, and assumes to himself prerogatives which are God's only, he can no longer, in such circumstances,

claim that obedience which is his due so long as he keeps within his proper province.

Let us see the application of these remarks to the particular case before us.

The claimant of the tithes in Lothersdale was George Markham. But not in his personal capacity, as George Markham, could he claim them, for he owned not a rood of the land. It was only in virtue of his appointment as Vicar of Carlton. And whosoever the Vicar of Carlton might happen to be-no matter whether he was a self-denying follower of Christ, or a godless unbeliever living a life of practical denial of the doctrines of the Gospel-him, as Vicar of Carlton, the law regarded as the spiritual instructor and pastor of that district; appointed him as the one special minister of religion for that parish, altogether irrespective of his having, or not having, received from the divine and only true Source a rightful call to the ministry; and, as such, it gave him a claim to take tithes of the occupants of the land, and supported him in enforcing the payment of them. Now, what is this but Cæsar usurping the province of Christ, to whom alone, as Head of His Church, belongs the prerogative of appointing His ministers ? And well might our Lothersdale Friends feel that, in paying tithes to this man, they would be recognising an earthly priesthood, an institution that was for ever abolished by the coming of our Lord-the alone High-Priest of our profession, Jesus Christ the Righteous, who ever liveth to make intercession for us; they would be sanctioning a compulsory payment for the preaching of that Gospel which is directed to be as freely given as it is freely received-they would be virtually assenting to the interference of the State in vital matters of religion; they would, in short, be acknowledging-not Christ, but the head of the civil power, the Sovereign of England, to be head of Christ's Church.

TYRUS: ITS GREATNESS AND ITS FALL.

(EZEKIEL CHAPS. XXVI., XXVII., XXVIII., AND ISAIAH XXIII.)

THE lutes that warbled in thy porphyry halls

Are mute, deserted Tyrus! and the voice

Of harp or dulcimer no longer calls

Thy princes and thy people to rejoice.

Oh, who may tell from what a dizzy height
Thy pride hath fallen-or of that dark hour
Which curtained in impenetrable night

The noontide of thy glorious pomp and power.

Thou sat'st enthroned a mighty Island Queen,

The "crowned" and "crowning city,"-and thy name Went forth encircled by the dazzling sheen

Of beauty, riches, majesty, and fame.

Thou wert the gaze of nations,-and their kings,
Beholding from afar thy high renown,

To deck thee brought resplendent offerings,
And at thy shrine to honour thee bowed down.

Within thy palaces in countless stores

The broidered drapery of Egypt shone,

And Syria's wealth was gathered on thy shores,
With the rich spoils from snow-crowned Lebanon.

The lordly oaks of Bashan tribute paid ;-
And Chittim's distant isles,-to beautify
Thy courts and festal halls,—before thee laid
Their choicest gifts of purest ivory.

The fruitful olive was despoiled for thee;

From Minnith's hills was brought the golden grain,
And the hard gleanings of the honey-bee
Were rifled for thy merchant-princes' gain.
Fair Shebah's groves, and fragrant Araby,
For thee their sweet and spicy treasures shed;
And Ramah's costly gems of every dye,

With regal splendour decked thy stately head.
With sails of burnished purple, o'er the sea
Thy galleys swept in beautiful array;
While from their oars to dulcet minstrelsy
The sons of Arvad flung the glittering spray.
Within thy towers and temples wealth untold
Was heaped from many a royal argosy ;
Along thy spacious streets the chariots rolled,-
Togarmah's fiery steeds were trained for thee.

Replenished were thy marts from lands afar,
And mighty fleets for thee their sails unfurled;
Thou wert a leading and refulgent star,

Which shed its lustre o'er the eastern world.

But thou art set for ever,-clouds of woe

Around thy tarnished name in darkness lower;
What laid the sceptre of thy greatness low?
Who rent thy diadem of pomp and power?

Thy heart was "lifted" in its hour of pride,
Beauty and riches were thy strength and trust;
And He whose gifts had blessed and dignified,
In judgment brought thy glory to the dust.

Thou mad'st thyself " as God," but Heaven's high King
A rival brooks not on the earth He made;
Nor could thy boasted treasure ransom bring,
When in the balance all thy dross was laid.

Nor could thy noblest stay the mandate given
To spoil the mighty, and to bow the great;
No, at Jehovah's word thy walls were riven,
Thy temples razed, thy people desolate.

And ocean-girded Tyrus, what art thou?

Oblivion's blasting wing is o'er thee spread. Where is the brightness of thy beauty now? Where are the symbols of thy freedom fled?

Thou who wert "glorious amidst the sea,"

Now have the billowy waters o'er thee rolled;
And sackcloth spread, for robes of jubilee,
The gleaming purple, and the orient gold.

Sad witness of accomplished prophecy !

Well might the nations shudder at thy doom;
And "kings be clothed with trembling," for thy cry
Ascends even now in warning from thy tomb!

Yes, and the heart is humbled, as it dwells,
Imperial city, on thy destiny.

Alas for pride! no poor memorial tells
Where even the ruins of thy greatness lie.

Above the dust of prince and potentate

The lowly "fisher" rears his dwelling rude;
And "spreads his nets," unconscious of thy fate,
Upon the rocks which guard his solitude.

The breeze sweeps o'er thee in its changeful play,
The crested billows sparkle on thy shore,
The sun still gilds thee with its joyous ray,

But thou art called the "Island Queen
"Island Queen " no more.
C. JAMES.