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The veteran Warrior, in the Spirit's might,
'Gainst hell and sin hath fought the goodly fight,
The Soldier, now bath laid his armour down,
And, more than conqeror, wears a kingly crown.
The valiant Leader of Truth's little band,
Hath cross'd the Jordan at his Lord's command.
The Watchman, who the Gospel-trumpet* blew,
On Zion's walls, and told the hours so true,
At day's bright dawn hath wing'd his rapturous flight
From this dark world, to dwell in realms of light.
The Pilgrim, now, hath pass'd the vale of sighs,
And reach'd the city of celestial joys.
The lowliest of the Shepherd's flock is gone
To fairer fields, where all the whole are one.
The household Steward hath discharg'd his trust,
His Lord hath come, and found that Servant just.
The vineyard Labourer who hath toil'd all day,
Hath ta'en his hire, and gone his heavenly way.
The Wrestler with the world, and flesh, and sense,
Hath won the prize, through faith's omnipotence.
The Follower of his lowly Lord, below,
Who shared bis griefs, his glory now doth know.
The meek Disciple, in his Master's train,
Who suffer'd with him, now with Him doth reign.
The aged Christian, glorying in the cross,
His race hath run, and finish'd well his course.
His final hour was peace ! In holy faith,
Triumphant, he hath pass'd the vale of Death,
Where heaven's bright visions opened on his view,
As there he bade the fading world adieu.
Th'unfetter'd spirit now for ever blest,
From sin and grief hath found it's glorious rest.

Such was, on earth, the Friend our hearts approv'd,
Such is, in heaven, the Saint by Jesus lov'd!
His name shall live, and glory it enwreathe
With those of Zion's sons, renown'd in faith.-
His righteous deeds shall bave a rich perfume,
And shed a halo round his lowly tomb;
While Grace attunes his golden harp, above,
To hymn the praise of God's redeeming love.
Long, for our loss, the hallow'd tear shall flow,
And Memory heaves a sigh to-WALTER Row.



“ This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.".

Gen. xxviii. 17.

Sing to the Lord, exalt his name,

Who meets his people bere !
The riches of his grace proclaim,

In songs of praise and prayer.
He makes his blessed Gospel known,

And sends his Spirit down,
His own Eternal Word to own,
That Cbrist may wear the crown.
Speak to our souls and bid us sing

Of Jesus and bis grace,
Of Prophet, Priest, and only King,

Our Shield and Hiding-place.

Sprinkle his blood upon our hearts,

His righteousness bestow ;
The saving joy which he imparts,

Incline our souls to know.
We praise the Father for his love ;

The Son for all his grace;
The quick’ning and instructing Dove:
The TRIUNB God we praise.

T. B. B.


“ Nevertheless He saved them for his name's sake."-PSALM CV1. 8.

WE praise the Lord, whose matchless grace,
Has singled out thy chosen race ;
And fix'd their everlasting state,
To reign in bliss for Jesu's sake.
Though ruin'd by their Father's sin,
Defil'd without, unclean within ;
Yet all their sins, however great,
Are purg'd with blood, for Jesu's sake.
The Spirit comes with holy fame,
And speaks within that precious name,
Causing the soul with life elate,

To leap in joy, for Jesu's sake.
Vol. IV.No. XII.

4 D

No hostile powers shall e'er remove,
Or draw them from a Saviour's love,
lo life so strong, in death so great,
Tbey'll reign with God, for JESU'S SAKE.
Teach us to feel these blessed words,
And know ourselves to be the Lord's;
That crowns of glory surely wait
Our ransom'd souls for JESU'S SAKE.

T. B. B.



From Mr. G. Beddow's “ Miracles in Egypt,” published by Hamilton, Adams

and Co, Paternoster-row.
In Egypt's palace sounds a tone
Scarcely in Egypt's palace known,

For he who entered there
Was wont to bend the servile knee,
As though he deemed the king were he,

Aloue who answers prayer.

Not such the voice that soundeth now,
It tells of Pharaoh's broken vow,

Though 'neath the Rogal roof:
The warning voice that strikes the ear,
Is one the Monarch dreads to hear

In accents of reproof.

“ How long" the Prophet cries," wilt thou
Refuse before the Lord to bow

Submissive to his word ?
A time is coming when despair
Sball fright thy godless lips to prayer,

And thou shalt be unheard.

“ Permit the chosen tribes to go,
Or stores of wide consuming woe

Await thy destined land :
Even to-morrow shall behold
Locusts in swarms and swarins untold

Lighting on every hand

" All that the withering hail has passed
Unsnitten by its deadly blast

Is only spared for these;
The springing wheat may sprout in vain,
These shall devour the infant grain

And fruitage of your trees.
“ Far sweeping like a living cloud,
Their wings the face of day shall shroud,

For where they take their flight
Dim twilight broods, and where they rést,
Corroding earth's embroidered vest,

Is barrenness and blight.

The inadden'd courriers through the hall
Scarce pause on bended knee to fall,

Yet Pharaoh lists their tale:
“ Have not thy servants told thee how
Destruction rests on Egypt now,

Save within Goshen's vale? « O think amid the general woe Should not the Hebrew captives go,

And be no more a snare ? The land is ruin'd by their stay, 'Twere better they should speed their way,

Though for rebellion's prayer."
“ Yet who shall go?" the tyrant cried,
“ Not one of all must be denied

At that most solemn feast :
Thither must sire and son repair,
Mothers and daughters must be there,

The greatest and the least,
“ The herds that graze upon the wold
And all the flocks that throng the fold

Our progress must attend :
We know not which the Lord requires
To burn upon the sacred fires

Before our journeying ends." “ Who would such mad petitions bear? Nay! leave your flocks and children here,

And take your first desire: Go to the sacrifice, ye inen, Nor murinur nor repine again,

Nor teinpt a monarch's ire."
Then, as from Pharaoh's presence driven,
The prophet's hand was rais'd to heaven,

And straight a rustling sound,
As when the leaves in Autumn strewn
Are by the bellowing jempest blown,

Came gatbering quickly round.
Through the remaining hours of night
The east wind blew; and when tbe light

Was mildly dawning o'er,
Each passing zephyr did but bring
I hc locusts on untiring wing

Over the hapless shore.
Fiercer than that destroying shower
Which scared the monarch in his tower,

In marshalled hosts they spread,
Presenting an unbroken front,
Such as would bear the battle's brunt

And strike the foe with dread.
Bathed in ricb sunlight now were seen
The Hebrew plains of richest green,

And waving cornfields there; Whilst, where the far-destroying host Had swept o'er Egypt's fated coast,

'Twas desolately bare.

One solitary leaf remain'd,
The last those fertile fields retajn'd,

Which only serv'd to show,
As courtiers gather'd round to gaze
On this bequest of happier days,

The madd’ning weight of woe.
A little group was clustering there,
Each forehead bore the mark of care;

And woman's plaintive wail,
The scream of dotage, manhood's cry,
And tender plaints of infancy,

Were borne upon the gale
The boldest eye was bleared and red
With tears o'er blighted prospects shed,

With more than woman's grief; The stoutest soldier weakly wept While blasts of desolation swept

Around that lonely leaf.
Gaunt Famine shook the parched land,
Waving aloft his scathing brand

O'er mountain, plain and river:
And Ruin laugh'd to see the brave,
Crouching beside the yawning grave,

Like startI'd cowards quiver.
As in some battle-field the dead
Were in their daily raiment spread

Beside the rippling waters,
Which in their agonies of thirst,
With tantalizing gushes curs'd,

Egyptia's sons and daughters.
The King beheld the barren waste,
And callid for Israel's sons in haste,

And when they stood before him,
They heard him with submissive breath,
Craving deliverance from the death

Tbat hung in judgment o'er bim. “ Oh only once, tbis once forgive ! Though guilty, suffer me to live !"

The trembling coward cried ,
Aud as he bent the dastard knee,
A picture of reproach was be,

Of littleness and pride.
Yet Mercy heard the prayer that rose
From Israel's Prophet for her foes,

And soon the strengthening breeze
Had swept the desolating host
Away froin Egypt's ravag'd coast,

And whelm'u them in the seas.
Still was the power of God denied,
Their labours yet the captives plied,

No kingly promise kept; Nor was the chain of bondage riven, But to their tasks more fiercely driven,

The sons of Israel's wept.

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