WHEN filled with doubts and fears,
And thousand thousand cares,
When dark my soul appears,
Where can I go?
My way seems hedged around,
My soul in fetters bound,
Lays prostrate on the ground;
What can I do?

Say, may a worm like me,
Look upward, Lord, to thee,
And dare to bend the knee,
Before thy throne?

Oh, wilt thou bend thine ear,
And list to my poor prayer,
Saying, Poor soul, come near,
I will thee own.

Say, may I, dearest Lord,
Take comfort from thy word,
That thou wilt strength afford

To those who seek ;
Nor crush a worm to dust,
Who on thy word would trust,
As every sinner must

Who feels so weak?

Lord, thou hast much in store,
For all thy hungry poor,
Who cry at mercy's door,
Who seek thy face;
Nor wilt thou turn away
Thy heart from such as pray
To thee from day to day,
For pardoning grace.

Ho every one, I hear,

That thirsteth, may draw near,
For such thou dost declare

May come and buy,
Such food as will suffice,
Though without charge or price,
To make the heart rejoice,
And never die.

Dear Lord how good art thou,
My soul desires to bow,
Before thy footstool now,
And prostrate lay;
Waive every creature plea,
Cast every care on thee,
And then submissive be,
Happen what may.

Shouldst thou, Lord, deal severe,
Thy justice must be clear,

And none can e'er appear
To doubt thy word;
For thou wilt ne'er deny,
Nor deal unrighteously
With those who weep and sigh,
But grace afford.

Hadst thou ne'er touched my heart,
And madest it feel the smart,

Of sin's envenomed dart,
Still had I been,

A rebel to thy laws,
Fighting in Satan's cause,
With all my heart and powers,
Blinded by sin.

No

power less than thine,
Could turn this heart of mine,
Which did so fondly twine
Round things below;
But, blessed be thy name,
When thou, blessed Spirit, came,
I saw my sin and shame,
And folly too.

Dear Lord, still look on me,
Ope more mine eyes to see
That love which dwells in thee,
In boundless store;
My unbelief remove,
And make my soul to prove
The aboundings of thy love
For evermore.

Keep me from day to day,
Lest, Lord, I go astray,
In the forbidden way

Of sin and shame;
On thee I would depend,
Thou best and only Friend,
Whose love can never end,
Blessed be thy name.

My Father! how blest is the name,
Which hope fondly strives to repeat;
But sin so confounds me with shame,

I shrink from the accents though sweet: My tongue is too weak for the task,

So frightful presumption appears; Dear Lord, for right faith would I ask, To comfort, and quiet my fears.

My Father! could I but believe,

What happiness then would be mine; But this I am weak to achieve,

The power is wholly divine : 'Tis thine, Holy Ghost, to reveal'Tis thine to give sight to the blind! Oh, give me that faith which is real, Establish my wavering mind.

My Father! then oft to thy throne

My soul with delight would repair;
And with sweet submission make known
The burden of harassing care;
And at each deliv'rance my tougue
Should publish thy glory abroad,
Till eventual, thy jewels among,
I evermore dwell with my Lord.
Islington.

JOSEPHUS.

Remember me, Saviour, when death draws apace.

And aid me to meet the cold monarch's em. brace;

Let me look through the veil which he draws o'er my eyes,

To thyself and my palace above in the skies.

Remember me, Saviour, in that time of need, And give me to see thee my Saviour indeed; Let the terrors of death be forgotten by me, Whilst the new world unfolding I gaze upon thee.

Remember me, Saviour, and, oh, may I find Thy love and thy goodness o'ershadow my mind;

Let me ever depend on thy promise and word,

Assured thou art truly my Saviour and Lord.

SIGMA.

THE SAINTS' WAR-SONG.

REMEMBER ME.

REMEMBER me, Saviour, oh let me be one To join in the anthem that's sung round thy throne;

Remember me, Saviour, a place to prepare, A crown and a palm-branch in glory to bear.

Remember me, Saviour, remember for good The soul who is pleading for peace through thy blood;

Who has found that the world can no comfort afford,

But the peace that is lasting must come from the Lord.

Remember me, Saviour, when Satan is nigh,
And make the deceiver confusedly fly;
Let him see thou wast tempted thy children
to aid,

When around them the snare of the fowler is laid.

Remember me, Saviour, when trouble is near, And for my deliverance in mercy appear; While each wave of trouble effecteth its end, Oh stand 'mid the waters thy child to befriend.

Remember me, Saviour, in sickness and pain,
Oh ever be present to bless and sustain;
Let me view each affliction as ordered in love,
Sent to wean from below and prepare for
above.

66

66

ADDRESS OF THE EDITORS.

TIME hath shaken another feather from its wing, and added one more to the years that are gone; let us look out from the lattice of observation, and surveying retrospectively its eventful history, enquire, What hath been its voice to the world? what its message to the church of God? and what its language to each individual believer?

England may feel almost excusably the flush of pride in the recollections of this memorable year, when, congregated in an edifice, remarkable alike for its unrivalled rapidity of erection, and for the novelty of its material and architecture, she saw the wealth and the ingenuities of earth's five continents, equalled, if not surpassed, by the productions of her own sons, and her own soil. England may exultingly, and should gratefully acknowledge her national blessings, when she remembers the millions, who uninterruptedly and unharmed visited the world's wonder; and when we contrast this with the bloodshed, despotism and danger in surrounding countries, ought we not indeed to exclaim, nationally, "The lines are fallen to us in pleasant places and we have a goodly heritage."

We confess that we never entertained the morbid and almost ludicrous apprehensions of some in reference to the past year's Exhibition,

and while we fear that it hath been of individual injury to many, we cannot but regard it as a great advance to the brotherhood of nations, and in so far a means in the Lord's hand to prepare the way for the Lord's coming; that promised period, when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, when men shall neither hurt nor destroy, and when the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth, as the waters cover the channel of the great deep.

When with another view from the lattice we look upon the nations around us; when near at home we glance at Ireland, unhappy land! pressed down by the incubus of popery, and not yet free from God's retributive visitations, for the blood of his slaughtered saints; when we look at France, the chess-board for every gambling adventurer, beautiful but depraved land! home alternately of priestcraft and infidelity, equally stained with the red brand of persecution, and equally under the wrath of the Almighty, who will never fail to visit for the blood of martyrs slain; when we see Europe's other kingdoms, most of them despotically governed or superstitiously priestridden, we turn with renewed affection to our native land; and while it is far from us to advocate the principle that even nationally it is right to vaunt ourselves over others, knowing that the Most High, the Governor of the Universe, is sove