lation of those which are not yet execysed & instructed in the holy scripture. In the whyche are manye harde places, as wel of ye olde as of y° newe Testamet expoūded gathered together, concorded, & copared one wyth another : to thintent that the prudent reader (by the spryte of God) maye heare alwaye pure & cleare understanding. Whereby euery man (as he is bound) may be made ready, stronge & garnyshed to answere to al them that aske him a reason of his faith. Thys is also profitable for the particular & general exhortacions whych we make to certayne personages, or comune people: & for to answere truely to Heretykes, & to confound the aduersaryes of the worde of God. In the which also we may fynd (that whych helpeth greatly the study of the readers) the openying of certayne Hebrue tropes, translations, symylytudes, & maners of speakynges (whyche we cal phrases) conteyned in the Bible. And for the more easely to fynde the matters desyred (because that disorder engendreth confusyon) I have proceded after thee order of an Alphabete: to thentet that none be depryved of so precious a treasure: the whyche ye shall use to the honoure & glorye of God, & to the edifieng of his church. How be it (good Reader) yf thou fynde not the thinges in this table expressed, in the same letters of the chapters wherein they are assigned: vouchsafe to loke in the letter goinge nexte before, or in the letter nexte followinge."

SACRED POETRY.

THE VOICE OF WATERS.

"I heard the noise......like the noise of great waters, as the voice of the
Almighty."-Ezek. i. 24.

WE stood beside the banks of Tees,

Where, thundering down his dreadful way,

He flings his foam-shower to the breeze,
And bathes the rocks with glittering spray.

We heard the voice of waters deep-
Not as when surges lash the shore,
And weary, fitful pauses keep-

But one unbroken solemn roar.

We gaz'd where the loud chiding flood
Leaps from the tall cliff's rifted brow,
As earth-born giant, in wild mood,
From castle tower to earth below.

Above, bright clouds the sunbeams chas'd,
And mountain winds play'd soft and cool;
But dank beneath, and dimly trac'd,

The storm-mist veil'd the unfathom'd pool.

We gaz'd, while rapture still'd alarm,
And half we thought, 'twere sweet to die,
Lock'd in the torrent's mastering arm,
The secrets of the abyss to try.

Nor strange it seem'd, if Pagan wild,

With earth and earthborn cares foredone, Here deem'd some spirit, to mortals mild, Kept secret court in cavern lone;

And when, more sadly sweet, the fall
Was heard beneath the soft moon-ray,
Mysterious harpings seem'd to call
The toil-worn pilgrim soul away.

For where, but in such ceaseless flow,
To whose loud chime the rock-vault rings,

Is seen so near, on earth below,

The shadow of eternal things?

The restless motion, and the strife,
The force that man can ne'er control,
O'ermastering all that here hath life-
It bows, it melts, it thrills the soul!

Dark stream, so fleet, so fugitive,

So changeful, yet thy waves abide,
Arm'd with strong virtue, to outlive
Hard rock, and mountain's hoary pride.

Thy sound is of the Eternal Power

That bears this world of change along,

That at creation's wondrous hour,
When angels woke the choral song,

Call'd thy rejoicing fountains forth,
Unheard, unseen by man to glide;
But mountain warblers hail'd thy birth,
And wild bees sipp'd that amber tide.

Then roll'd, as now, that dark wave's shock;
The trembling heart's deep silence hears,
In echoes from the embattled rock,

The voice of twice three thousand years.

HYMN FROM THE LATIN.

ILLESA TE PUERPERA.

THOUGH a parent's thy control,
Not a mother's pang was thine
O'er thy holy child divine;
But a sword shall pierce thy soul.

When he gave, with dying brow,
Thee another son's to be,
Gave another son to thee,
'Tis that pang is on thee now.

But we see no rended hair,

And we hear no wailing cry;
All is silent agony;
'Tis a mother's grief is there.

LINES TO A LADY WHO PRESENTED THE WRITER WITH
A MEDAL OF MILES COVERDALE.

Rom. x. 18-" But I say, Have they not heard? Yes verily, their sound went into all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the world."

WITH grateful eyes on Coverdale I look,

Who first of Briton's sons unsealed the sacred book

That book from which all blessings flow

From God above- to man below.
What though three centuries are past,
Still must we hold the treasure fast,
And guard it with unceasing care,
By pleasure unsubdued, unawed by fear;
Read it by day, and meditate by night,
"Till mental darkness flies, and all be light;"
Infants be taught to hear their Saviour's call,*
Repeat his prayer, and at his footstool fall;
And when the storms of life more rudely sound,
Prepared and steady at our post be found;
Then, when the sun (our day) sinks in the west,
We
may "in humble hope" (the Christian pillow) rest.

FUTURITY.

THE fairest scenes beneath the skies,
The rays of joy that brightest beam,
When wrapt in Fancy's fond disguise
More bright and more enchanting seem.

Still to the soul how dull the past,
With future hours compar'd, appears ;
Still Fancy wild, than Time more fast,
Plans her gay map of future years.

To him who longs the bliss to prove

Which lurks in Fancy's landscape wide,
How slow the hours and minutes move,
Like bubbles, down Time's lazy tide!

How lovely, smiling from afar,

The future joys of life appear!

Alas, how tame, how flat they are

When to their presence we draw near.

There is an hour-an hour to come,
Which baffles Fancy's boldest flight;
She dare not pierce Death's awful gloom,
She cannot gaze on heav'nly light:

Matt. xix. 14-" Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me."

AN ANTHEME OR PRAYER FOR THE PRESERUATION OF THE CHURCH, THE QUEENES MAIESTIE, & THE REALME, TO BE SUNG AFTER EVENING PRAYER AT ALL TIMES.*

Saue Lorde & blesse with good increase,

Thy Church, our Queene & Realme in peace.

As for thy giftes we render praise,
So Lorde we crave still blessed dayes,
Let thy sweete worde & gospell pure,
With us deare God for aye endure.
With prosperous reigne increase it stil,
That sound thereof the world may fill.

Saue Lord & blesse with good increase,

Thy Church, our Queen & Realme in peace.

That Vine thy Right hande planted hath
Preserve, O Lord, from enemies wrath,
And those that practise Sions spoyle,
With mightie arme (Lorde) give them foyle.
Thy Church & Kingdome, Christ, we pray,
Increase & build from day to day.

Saue Lord & blesse with good increase,

Thy Church, our Queene & Realme in peace.

Like as thy grace our Queene hath sent,
So blesse her rule & governement.

Thy glorie chiefly to maintaine,

And graunt her long & prosperous Raigne:

All foes confound, & Rebels eke,

That Prince or Churches harme would seeke.
Saue Lord & blesse with good increase,

Thy Church, our Queene & Realme in peace.

This English Isle, and people all,

Preserve for Christes blood we call.

Graunt peace t'enjoy thy blessings now,
Because none fyghtes for us but thou,
So shall we live to praise thee then,
Which likewise graunt. Amen, Amen.

Saue Lord & blesse with good increase,

Thy Church, our Queen & Realme in peace.

From "A fourme of prayer with thankesgiving, to be used of all the Queenes Maiesties loving subjects euery yeere, the 17. of Nouember,

being the daye of her Hignesse entry to her Kingdome. Set forth by authoritie. Imprinted at London by Christopher Barker, printer to the Queens Maiestie."

VOL. XIV.-Oct. 1838.

3 F

A SONG OF REIOYSING FOR THE PROSPEROUS REIGNE OF OUR
MOST GRATIOUS SOUERAIGNE LADY QUEENE ELIZABETH.

The Editor begs to remind his readers that he is not responsible for the opinions
of his Correspondents.

ON THE REV. G. S. FABER'S ACCOUNT OF THE PAULICIANS. MY DEAR SIR,-I shall be glad if you will allow me to employ the pages of the British Magazine as the medium of communicating to the public a few remarks on that part of Mr. Faber's recent work on