pursues us with, alas! unheeded expostulations. "Why will ye die ?" "As I live, I have no pleasure in the death of the but rather that he should turn from his ways, and Awake, thou that sleepest, and CHRIST shall give thee

wicked; live." 66

light!"

And yet, though it may generally be believed that the fear of death indicates a want of preparation for it, either entire or in part, it must be owned that some of GOD's obedient children are oppressed and perturbed by it. They are in bondage through fear of death.

Such surely do not think of it aright. Doubtless, it is in itself, and apart from its eternal consequences, most mysterious and awful and had it been brought into the paradise of GOD, we might well have been affrighted by it. But exiled from Him in this world of keenest trial and suffering, both to mind and body; a world in which our flesh upon us doth mourn; in which our hearts are saddened by our own sorrows, and those of the whole human family; a world during our continuance in which we are exposed to fearful assaults from spiritual enemies, and above all, to the dreadful possibility of sinning, and so forfeiting the favour of our GOD, and that eternal blessedness to which our hopes rise: surely in such a world, and to those for whom Death has been deprived of his " sting," he should be as the angel of life! coming, as he does, to close the sad volume of our earthly existence, and lead us away into the immediate presence of Him Whom, having not seen, we love; in Whose " presence is fulness of joy." There may be work unfinished, and ties severed; and the flesh may cling to that earth wherein it has long sojourned: still "to die is gain," and the more we contemplate death, the less shall we fear it.

It may be that our shrinking from death arises from a vivid apprehension of the Divine purity, contrasted with the sinfulness, not entirely eradicated, and the imperfection of our own hearts. And truly such considerations are oppressive, and must be overwhelming but for the thought of His infinite perfections for Whose sake alone we are accepted of the FATHER. Here is our only hope and stay; and it is one sufficient for our extremest need. Or there may lurk within us a secret distrust of God's goodness and faithfulness; a fear that in "the pains of death" He will suffer us to fall from Him.

But let us be persuaded that the surest pledge of a happy death is a holy life. Let us take care to live well, to give the present moment, which is all that we can call our own, to GOD, and then we need not mistrust our Heavenly FATHER: nor fear His messenger of mercy to us! We are in the hands of a merciful Creator; and He will not take us at a disadvantage.

"In the hour of death, and in the day of judgment," He will deliver all them who trust in Him.

"Trust in Him at all times, ye people. GOD is a refuge for

us."

M. J.

THE YEOMAN'S SONG.

"Long Life and Success to the Farmer."

COME hither, old neighbour, we've done with our labour,

The harvest is home as ye all see;

We've plenty in store, and our dangers are o'er,

And tempests no longer appal me.

We've ploughed and we've sown, and hard toil we have known,

With the lark we have risen each morning;

The sickle we've plied, and the sheaf we have tied,

The sloth of the sluggard each scorning.

Whate'er may befal, we are brave Britons all

Stout hearted is every bold yeoman;

Though our fathers are dead, we here stand in their stead

The sons of the old British Bowman.

Were his country in need, none more ready to bleed,

And under her banners to rally;

On each field of renown, ever true to the crown,
And true to his own native valley.

Come, neighbour, your hand, and wherever the land

Of Britain extends to the ocean,

We'll stand by the throne which our fathers have known-
The bond of their loyal devotion.

And should ever a foe wish the yeoman to know,

He'll find him still fearless in danger;

Sound as oak to the heart, without cunning or art,

And a friend to the poor and the stranger.

Let others delight in their skies ever bright,
And talk of their olives and myrtle;

But Britain for me, with its true liberty,
Fair daughters and acres so fertile !

With the sound of the flail, we old neighbours will hail,

And, spite of each idle alarmier,

Full loudly and long we'll re-echo the song,

"LONG LIFE AND SUCCESS TO THE FARMER."

J. A. W.

THE MARTYR KING'S DAUGHTER.

MANY whose names are now forgotten will be found in the last day amongst the number of those who came out of great tribulation, and who have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. They bore the burthen and heat of the day, and fell on sleep at eventide, in the hope of

a glorious resurrection. Long and manfully did they fight, and conquered through Him, Who was the Author and Finisher of their faith. Daily did they take up their cross, and tread in the steps of the Crucified, traversing their thorny road with patience and with joy. Their names are written in His book, and though the world like them not, or treat them with unloving scorn, and cruel hate, yet will they hereafter glitter as jewels in the crown of their LORD. For all such, as well as for the martyrs whose names will never die even on earth, we render thanks to GOD, when we bless His holy Name for all His servants who have departed this life in His faith and fear.

Charles I., the Martyr King, is remembered from year to year; but few there are who bestow a thought on his beloved child, the broken-hearted girl, who died in captivity in Carisbrook Castle. She bent like a tender and a lovely flower beneath the wild and pitiless storm. Hers was a melancholy lot, and yet the love of GOD and her father cheered her in her sad career, and filled her troubled heart with joy and peace. When the civil war broke out, she and her infant brother, the Duke of Gloucester, were seized by her father's enemies, and placed under the care of Lady Northumberland. Her mother and eldest sister were in a foreign land; her father was daily exposed to perils, and hardships, and every request he made for the restoration of his two children was refused. Thus in her earliest years was she called upon to suffer. The cross, placed upon one so young, was indeed heavy to bear, but He, Who guards the tender lambs, gave her strength to bear it, and His protecting hand guided her steps.

When she was in her thirteenth year, the King, who was then in the hands of his rebellious subjects, demanded an interview with her and her youthful brother. This request was complied with, and they were taken to meet him at Maidenhead. It was a bright summer day, and many sympathizing people went out to see them, and scattered flowers and boughs on the road before them. Cromwell, too, was there among the multitude, and even his heart was touched, on witnessing the fond affection which parent and children bore to each other, and he told Sir John Berkeley "it was the tenderest sight he ever saw."

From this time the King and his children met frequently, and the opportunities thus won were spent by the monarch in instructing his daughter in the doctrines of the Church of England, to which he bade her adhere at all hazards.

In November the King escaped from Hampton Court, being aided herein by his daughter. At her request, the sentinel was removed to a greater distance from that part of the building

occupied by the royal prisoner. He escaped, however, only to be retaken, and shut up in Carisbrook Castle. One by one, the young girl's hopes were blighted, and unattended by her brother she drank her cup of sorrow alone. All this has been beautifully set forth by Vaughan in his epitaph upon her :

Thy portion here was grief, thy years
Distilled no other dew but tears,
Tears without noise, but (understood)
As loud and shrill as any blood.
Thou seem'dst a rosebud born in snow
A flower of purpose, sprung to bow
To headless tempests, and the rage
Of an incensed, stormy age;
Others, ere their affections grow,
Are timed and seasoned for the blow.

And yet as balm trees gently spend
Their tears for those that do them rend;
So mild and pious thou wert seen,
Though full of sufferings, free from spleen.
Thou didst not murmur nor revile,

But drunk'st thy wormword with a smile.

Her greatest and most bitter sorrow was now nigh at handthe infamous trial and condemnation of the King. On the 27th of January the unjust sentence was pronounced, and he was condemned to be executed on the 30th. His enemies would not suffer him to speak, and as he was hurried from the court by his guards, the soldiers, through whom he passed, shouted" Execution! Execution! Justice! Justice!" spitting upon his dress and face. He did not, however, resent their insults, but meekly wiped his face, saying, "My Saviour suffered far more than this for me."

(To be continued.)

THE POVERTY OF CHRIST.
(From the Latin.)

THIS saying of JESUS (S. Luke ix. 58) should be frequently dwelt upon by thee, and carefully implanted in thy heart, whoever thou mayest be that strivest to lead a religious life. JESUS commends to thee the high estate of His poverty, by which a heavenly kingdom is purchased; which estate Himself also, as poor in the world, chose, and most strictly kept. Yea, He

would have thee seek no earthly consolation; because He had not, when here, a temporal rest, neither did He make for Himself a material house wherein to dwell. The beasts have dens for their lurking-places, and the birds have nests or holes for their rest; but JESUS reared no tabernacle for Himself, nor procured either house or board by others' help. He lived poor, and a mendicant; He passed over the world's road as a stranger hurrying onwards, and quitted it as a guest of another country. The Eternal Wisdom built no house made with hands for Himself, neither did He hire any in villages or in cities; but, content with the common lodging of His friends, He followed in all respects the simple habits of the needy, taking no delights in the lofty tents of sinners. What was given to Him for His support He shared in common, and made over to others to distribute. He would have nothing for private use, but availed Himself only of what the demands of nature required. If anything remained of His scanty pittance of money or provisions, He caused it to be expended among the poor. . . . . And verily the Framer of heaven and earth, the reputed Son of the carpenter, could have easily made a house or temple to His Name, without hatchet or axe; but the Heavenly Master and Artificer of all virtues came not down on earth to repair the things of the body; for He had no respect to wood and stones, oxen and sheep, farms and revenues: but the healing, and instructing, and redeeming of souls -this was His care. He manifested His power by better deeds than these, performing cures with a gentle touch, or a single word. He taught wisdom also by good acts and words, speaking of the kingdom of GOD, dissuading from the transient joys of the world. He gathered the lowly and the simple around Him; the haughty and the rich He sent empty away.

Suffer

Do thou, therefore, cast aside all unprofitable anxiety for temporal things, occupying thyself altogether with thy future treasures; cast all thy care upon the LORD, meditate on the things of heaven. Labour not covetously for the necessaries of life, that thou mayest have plenty for the time to come. others also to labour for themselves, that they may have whereon to live. Rather labour for thy soul, and for the acquisition of grace, than that the flesh, which is hereafter to be the prey of worms, may be well fed. Toil not too much for things temporal, and so neglect spiritual exercises. It is good to seek the common weal, but the spiritual rather than the earthly: it is good to eat bread in the sweat of thy brow, but take heed and forget not the bread of heaven. Exercise thy labour in the days of thy vanity, saith the wise man, lest perchance thou leave all to a man that hath not laboured, and is ungrateful.... Follow thou CHRIST'S poverty, and be content with the supply of nature's sparing