Thy saints proclaim thee King; and in their hearts Thy title is engraven with a pen Dipp'd in the fountain of eternal love. Thy saints proclaim thee King, and thy delay COWPER. THE PILGRIM PATH. ADA. "OH, Sister dear, the pilgrim-way seems strait, and long, and steep, And though thou say'st its paths are peace, yet oft I see thee weep, And storms beat rudely round thine head, and tempests roughly blow; Sister, where leads this toilsome path, and wherefore dost thou go?" EVELYN. "Ada, I know thou lov'st to walk beside the flowing stream, Thou lov'st to welcome with thy song the sun's first rising beam, Thou lov'st to guide thy fairy bark across the smooth clear lake, And with the music of thy voice deep echoes to awake. 6 Bright are earth's streams, sweet sister mine, and beautiful her flowers, And lovely are the rainbow hues, brought forth by summer showers ; But the immortal soul of man craves purer, higher bliss, More lasting joys than can be found in such a world as this. "Ada, the track thou askest of, the pilgrim's narrow road, Leads on to the celestial land, the angels' bright abode : Prophets and kings, in ages past, its upward path have trod, Nor rested till they reached their home, the city of our God. "There is a river in that land, whose waters never fail, A tree of life, whose fruit shall bloom, untouched by wintry gale; Treasures which never can corrupt, riches which will not fly, And, dearer far, eternal love, which cannot change or die. "Yes, Ada, that steep rugged road, from which so many stray, Leads up to Heaven, where night is lost in everlasting day; Though darkly now, as through a glass, I see its distant shore, E'en that dim sight hath made me prize the joys of earth no more. "Its paths are peaceful, Ada mine, and pleasant are its ways, All unattractive as they seem to the poor worldling's gaze, With a kind Saviour's hand to guide, a Saviour's smile to cheer, What is there, oh, what can there be, a Christian needs to fear? "Thou say'st, I weep. Ah, well I may, so oft I turn aside, So oft I yield to murmuring thoughts, to discontent, and pride, But Jesus has atoned for all-His blood is all my plea, And while I sorrow, I rejoice, since He has died for me. "It was not ever with me thus, for once, like thee, I thought The pilgrim-way was full of pain, with sadness only fraught; I saw our sainted mother die, and light broke on my mind, Oh, fragrant is the memory which she hath left behind. "She told me all her journeyings, and sweetly beamed her eye, As, with a calm untroubled faith, she look'd beyond the sky; The golden towers of heaven were near,-its pearly gates in view, With her last breath she bid me come, and charged me to bring you. "I ask thee by our mother's love-no-by a holier plea, By all the Lord of glory bore to save and rescue thee; Together let us tread this path, and pilgrims, hand in hand, Together seek a better home in our Immanuel's land." I listened, but I heard no voice-Ada made no reply, Save by the glistening tears which fell from her uplifted eye, But, while I still look'd anxiously, behold the orphan pair Knelt low before a wicket-gate-It was the gate of prayer. J. T. ON THE SERVICES OF THE CHURCH. No. IX. 'I BELIEVE in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.' Observe the assertion here made; it is not merely that God the Father is Almighty, the Maker of heaven and earth it is put in a subjective form, a declaration of the individual working of our own mind. I believe in God.' Now, remember in whose presence this declaration is made; in that of the heart-searching God. Remember, too, the fate of him who fell down dead in the congregation, because he had not lied unto men, but unto God; and then realise how solemn a moment it is, when the whole assembly repeats, 'I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.' The worldling, engrossed with this world's cares, who says to the fine gold,' thou art my confidence,' he repeats it, and, as he does so, turns perhaps reverently to the east, but surely a lie is in his right hand, for he is hastening after another God. The votary of pleasure repeats it, and then gracefully bows her knee at the mention of the Redeemer's name; but does she believe that God is the Maker of heaven and earth? If so, he made all those bright gay things on which her heart is fixed he made the eye that rejoices in their beauty, the ear that delights in their harmony. They can answer no purpose, but that for which he created |