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morning, as Sapricius was being led forth to execution, he pressed through the crowd, and throwing himself on his knees, he cried out,-—"Martyr of our Lord, forgive me if I have done you wrong.'

Sapricius remained silent.

Nearer the place of execution Nicephorus repeated his cry for forgiveness; entreating Sapricius to have pity on the frailty of human nature, and reminding him that he was about to receive a crown of glory from the Lord.

Still Sapricius hardened his heart, and would not answer. The guards laughed at Nicephorus for asking forgiveness from a man on the brink of the grave; but Nicephorus would not desist: he followed Sapricius to the very scaffold, and more earnestly urged him to speak, repeating the words of our Lord: “ Ask, and it shall be given to you.”

Sapricius gave no sign of hearing his penitent friend.

By this time the executioners approached Sapricius, and bade him kneel down to receive the fatal blow.

“ Wherefore ?” said Sapricius.

For having set at nought the commands of the emperors, and having refused to sacrifice to the gods."

“ Then do not strike me,” said Sapricius ; "and I am now ready to obey the emperors, and to sacrifice."

Then Nicephorus spoke,

“ My brother, do not deny the Lord; do not lose the crown which you have so nearly gained.”

Sapricius did not listen.

Nicephorus, seeing that there was no hope for the miserable man, said to the executioners,

“I am a Christian : I will not sacrifice to your gods; I will not obey your emperors."

The governor was immediately told of this; and he commanded that Nicephorus should be forthwith executed.

So was he above measure rewarded for his brotherly love and humility; while Sapricius, though at first he was willing to "give his body to be burnt,” yet, because he had not charity," lost all that he seemed to have had, and became one of those most miserable men who deny the Lord that bought them.

STATED times of prayer put us in that posture (as I may call it) in which we ought ever to be: they urge us forward in a heavenly direction, and then the stream carries

us on.



O heavenly Jerusalem,

Of everlasting halls,
Thrice-blessed are the people

Thou storest in thy walls !
Thou art the golden mansion,

Where saints for ever sing ;
The seat of God's own chosen,

The palace of the King.
There God for ever sitteth,

Himself of all the crown;
The Lamb the light that shineth,

And never goeth down.
Nought to this seat approacheth,

Their sweet peace to molest;
They sing their God for ever,

Nor day nor night they rest.
Calm hope from thence is leaning,

To her our longings bend;
No short-lived toil shall daunt us,

For joys that cannot end.
To Christ, the sun that lightens

His Church, above, below;
To Father and to Spirit,

All things created bow.


With sure and steady motion

The ark securely glides,
On through the troubled ocean

Triumphantly she rides.
Though furious winds are blowing,

And tempests raging high-
Though bubbling tides are flowing,

She floats uninjured by.

Though torrents fierce are rushing

Each mountain-crevice down, With whelming fury crushing

Tower, citadel, and town. Yea, though such force assail her,

Unharmed she beats along; For succour never fails her,

She's stronger than the strong. How could that bark go stemming

Alone the swelling tide,
The world of waters hemming

Her close on every side?
How could that bark, so fearless,

Survive amid the shocks,
And gain a triumph peerless

O'er powers that rent the rocks? Because the Lord, all gracious,

Had bade one righteous man To raise that vessel spacious

Upon a heavenly plan. Because th' Almighty lent her

His power above the wave; And wondrously He meant her

A rebel world to save.
Because that vessel lowly

Was set up as a sign
Of something still more holy,

Of something more divine.
For as the ark so surely

Was built life whole to save, And bear her freight securely

Above the watery grave; And as her patient builder

Was raised the world to warn ; And gladly would have filled her

With those who died in scorn ;-So sure as Scripture spoken

Is holy, good, and true, So sure the ark's a token

Of Christ's own Church to you:

So sure the Church securely

Bears up through waves of sin;
And Christ's own promise surely

Shuts her true children in :
So sure the Church's preachers

Of truth and righteousness,
Are Christ's appointed teachers,

A sinful world to bless :
So sure, when life is ended,

The Church, beset no more,
Will land her sons defended

Upon a happy shore.
0, may I never faulter

To enter her low door ;
Nor seek Christ's laws to alter,

Like rebels proud of yore.
That so, when life is over,

The Church, at Christ's command,
May to my soul discover

That bright and happy land.

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November. The festivals of this month are, All Saints' Day on the 1st, and St. Andrew's Day on the 30th.

Advent Sunday will be on the 27th, being the Sunday next before the feast of St. Andrew.


Robson, Levey, and Franklyn, Great New Street, Fetter Lane.



PAGE Lydia Morrison (concluded)

265 The Shipwreck

276 Climate

277 Advent

280 Innocents' Day

281 Poetry: St. Thomas's Day; Christmas-Day; St. Stephen's Day 282 Calendar for December


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p. 250.]

Lydia Morrison.

[Concluded from WHEN she had been two or three Sundays, Mr. Chaloner called, and said that he was glad to see her remembering her duty at last; and he hoped she would not neglect it again as she had done. “I am always very sorry,” he said, “when those whom I have met over a death-bed do not meet me in the house of God. It seems strange, that those whose dear friends have just been removed from them into the unseen world, should not wish to come to the church,

No. XII.


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