It doth not yet indeed appear

What they who claim that holy name shall be;

But this great truth at least is clear, They who desire it must from sin be free.

'Tis vain for heavenly bliss to sigh,
If we neglect what only Heaven can gain :
Made manifest that sin might die,
The Lord admits in none a wilful stain,
The Evil One hath felt his arm,

And grace is given to all who truly ask;
Nor power in earth or hell can harm
Who, in his strength, performs th' allotted task.

Let no one, then, himself deceive,— Who worketh righteousness alone is pure;

The crown which Faith's own fingers weave

A life of purity must yet secure.

No sinful being may draw nigh

The Lamb of God, and claim the saints' pure lot; Beware we then the dread reply

"Sinners, you plead in vain—I know you not !"

O LORD, we beseech Thee favourably to hear the prayers of Thy people; that we, who are justly punished for our offences, may be mercifully delivered by Thy goodness, for the glory of Thy Name, through Jesus Christ our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Hitherto the Church has celebrated the birth and manifestation of Christ; she now calls upon us to consider the end and design of his coming to take away sin by the sacrifice of Himself: the season is therefore no longer one of rejoicing, but of humiliation and repentance.

The present Sunday is called Septuagesima Sunday, or, more properly speaking, the Sunday in Septuagesima, or seventy days before Easter. Originally forty days' fast were appointed as a preparation for that holy festival, but the term was lengthened, not that the season of penitence should be made

more severe, but that its rigour might be mitigated in consideration of weaker constitutions. The number forty was appointed by the Church in remembrance of the forty days in which the flood overspread the earth, of the forty years' wandering of the Israelites in the wilderness, of Moses' sojourn in the mount, and especially of our blessed Saviour's fast and temptation. These forty days of penance commence on Ash-Wednesday; the Sunday of each week being a festival, the number would be otherwise incomplete. In the course of time fifty days before Easter were fixed for the beginning of Lent, that a few days of refreshment might be obtained. The Sunday in that period was consequently called the Sunday in Quinquagesima, or Quinquagesima Sunday. Further indulgence being desired, sixty days were appointed, and hence Sexagesima Sunday. At length the number was finally limited to seventy, by which we may be reminded of the seventy years of captivity in Babylon,-the representative of confusion, idolatry, and sin. These three Sundays, therefore, may be considered as introductory to Lent, strictly so called, and should serve as a preparation for that holy season.

The Collect makes humble acknowledgment of God's justice in punishing our sins, and prays for a deliverance for the glory of His name. The Epistle, under the metaphor of the ancient games of the Athletæ, points out our Christian course, and exhorts us to use the necessary means of ab

stinence and mortification, in order to run it successfully.

In the Gospel, under the parable of the householder hiring labourers to work in his vineyard, we are shown the work assigned us by the providence of God in His own vineyard, and reminded that an evening will also arrive to each, when our labours will be reviewed, and reward or punishment accorded.

The Proper Lessons take us back to the book of Genesis. There we behold the dignity and rank of man upon his original creation, the favour of his Maker towards him, and the happiness he enjoyed before sin had robbed him of his innocence, and of his title to a heavenly inheritance. The intent of this contemplation is to lead the mind to Him who has created us anew in His own image, and, by a work of love greater even than at first shown us, given us a surer and a holier title to eternal happiness.

GENESIS ii. 17.

In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

Now Spring is returning, the heather is green,

And Nature awakens at length from her sleep;

The dark clouds are vanished, the sky is serene,

And the rude waves are hushed on the breast of the deep.

The leaves are all budding, the primrose appears,
The call of the blackbird resounds from the grove;
The bright beams of sunshine the gay meadow cheers,
And warms the chilled bosom of earth into love.

Yes, Nature rejoices, though cursed for man's sin,

Her season of sorrow and darkness is o'er;

But her garments of gladness the Church must begin
To cast far aside, and past guilt to deplore.

She has sung for the joy of her Lord's holy birth,
For the bliss which his brightness convey'd to the isles
But now she must sorrow while joy clothes the earth
And for shame and for penitence change her glad smiles.

And, mark! 'twas but late that all Nature seemed dead,,
Though now she arises more bright from her tomb;
A gayer existence o'er all things is shed,

While man, and man only, is cast into gloom.