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trusting in masses for the dead. The agony of a lifetime seemed curdled in one moment. The brother and sister cast themselves on their knees to implore refuge from impending doom. They soon arose, and Brien shouted for relief, in the hope that some fisherman or passenger might be attracted by his call. He paused for a reply. He heard only the soft plashing of the summer sea, as wave after wave coursed each other to the shore. The soft moonlight poured its silver beams over the reposing waters of the bay. The promontory opposite the cave glowed with the red light of the watch-fire, but at so great a distance that the music and mirth of the dancers were inaudible. Once more Brien shouted for aid, the rocks reverberated his call ; but their echoes died away unheard by mortal ear. Again the soft murmurs of the advancing waves sounded in the darkness of the cave. Mary fainted. Brien raised her inanimate form upon the highest ledge of rocks, and felt almost thankful that she was spared the misery of watching the slow, insidious approach of death, as well as the consciousness of drowning death agonies. Once. more the cave reverberated with his shouts for relief, but in vain. The waters touched his feet; they continued to rise ; Brien resigned the hopes of life, and surrendered himself to prayer.

SIDNEY O'MOORE.

SPIRITS OF THE FRENCH REFORMATION.

No. VI.

LEFEVRE.

“ Le vieux docteur s'était animé; ses yeux eteints brillaient, sa voix usée était devenue sonore ; on eut dit le vieux Siméon rendant grâces au Seigneur de ce que ses yeux voyaient son salut.”

“ Ce moment où Lefèvre, quittant les merveilleux récits des saints, mit la main sur la parole de Dieu, commence une ère nouvelle en France, et est le principe de la Réformation.”—D'AUBIGNE.

and ten,

Oh for that glory's matchless ray,
The crown of threescore

years
Walking in wisdom's perfect way,

A watchful light mid the sons of men !
Oh! to look back serenely then

On all the way our God has led,
To live to Jesu’s glory, when

Its beams reflecting grace our head !
Some good achieved—a life not lost;

Some exploit + in our leader's name,
And in his cross a victor's boast

O’er sin and pain, o'er toil and shame !

A light, but not the noonday light,

Dawned on Lefèvre's soul;
Beams of salvation pure and bright,

Gently around him stole,

* Proy. xvi. 31.

Dan. xi. 32.

Lighting his strange mysterious home,

The chambers of his imagery, While all the idol-gods of Rome

Trembled before it fearfully, Their worshipper before them stands, Clasping a Bible in his hands, His heart to heaven-to God ascending, His knee before their altars bending ; Striving to bind his wavering will Fast to his old allegiance still. That link must break-it cannot be That Christ and Antichrist agree ! Can the infallible mislead, Or error stamp the Pontiff's creed ? The doubt would come, the question be Repeated oft with agony. Searching the perfect law of God,

Watching intent to do his will, An upward path the Christian trod,

Brightening and brightening still. *

The fairest garlands he could twine
Fade on the virgin's gaudy shrine ;
The deepest agony of prayer
Rises to God, but rises there,
When suddenly, as if from heaven
A messenger the word had given,
And he that message were revealing
To the wrapt youtht beside him kneeling,
• William,' he cried, the day will come
Of truth and life for Christendom;

the miracle shall see,
And the full light shall compass thee !

† Farel.

Thine eye

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* Prov. iy. 18.

The prophet to his cell returned,
The midnight lamp before him burned ;
His soul had grasped an enterprise
Meet for an angel to devise ;
He knew the road-had found the key
To life, and light, and liberty,
Nor will again repose his head
On couch of ease or leisure's bed,
Till by the labour of his hand
They shine

upon

his native land. Hid in a tongue unknown, the Book

Shall yet be clear and plain, And those who in its pages look,

Shall never look in vain.

His work is done his temples hoary
Are circling fast with heaven's own glory.
Found in the path that must be press'd

By feet of righteous men ;
Rest, till the end of all things rest;
Thou in thy lot* when all are blest

Shalt stand triumphant then.

Unhappy France !-why didst not thou

Thy day of favour know?
It passed away–what art thou now?

All glitter, pomp, and show !
A crown upon thy haughty brow,

But in thy walls the foe-
The traitors unbelief and doubt
Casting their Maker's glory out,
And bringing, with the curse of sin,
All violence and danger in.

* Dan. xii. 13.

Yet “ fifty righteous ” may be found,
The salt of thy unholy ground.
Bear with them, for if these should flee,
What yet remains to shelter thee ?
Armies that trod with ruthless feet
The Christian vales of Otaheite ?
Oh, safer were thy lot to be
Cast like a millstone in the sea,
Than thus o’erpass Christ's feeble fold,
Like hungry wolf for slaughter bold.-
Senates who sit in godless league ?
Or kings who stoop to dark intrigue ?
Are these, when all their powers combine,
Invincible, for these are thine ?
Let Babylon and Tyrus tell
What kingdoms were and how they fell !

A. N.

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