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: VERSES, Written upon reading page 120 of The New Evangelical Church of

England Champion.
Blow the loud trumpet ! Sound the quick alarm !
Let holy zeal each patriot bosom warm !
Lo! the proud infidel blasphemes his God ;
And Superstition thirsts for human blood !
The storm is gathering, with a fearful blast,
And Heaven, with clouds, is, darkly, overcast !
Is this a time to sleep, when foes awake ?
O'er Church and State the threatening standard shake ?
With rage insatiate Heaven's dread King deny ?
And shout defiance to the Lord Most High ?
Awake ere yet the whirlwind's awful sweep,
'Mid Albion's wreck, forbids again to sleep.
Say shall the brightest, most illustrious gem,
Which shines upon our Monarch's diadem,
Be dimly clouded, by the scoffer's breath ?
Shall the defence of our all holy faith,
No longer, to our Gracious Sovereign, prove,
The firmest basis of his people's love ?
Monarch rever'd! who rul'st these sea-girt Isles,
Securely thron’d, while Heaven, approving, smiles ;
Protect our Church, and let the holy cause,
Of Christ's Religion, and His sacred laws,
Be ever guarded with a father's hand,
And glory long shall rest upon our land !
What tho' thine impious foes should gather 'round,
Who long to tread thine honour to the ground,
Yet fear them not ; for He, the King of Kings,
Will safely shield Thee underneath His wings :
Thy cause is His, whose word can hush to sleep,
The mighty heavings of the billowy deep !
Whose hand, e'en from Creation's natal hour,
Hath held, securely pois'd, the eternal scales of power !
O! Britain, wilt thou, ever, blot thy name?
And tarnish o’er the lustre of thy fame ?
Is public faith annullid ? are treaties broke ?
Our allies given to the oppressor's yoke ?
Wipe off the foul dishonour, Belgium cries,
While echoes loud from Lusitania rise !
The mourning Church, points to her goodly towers,
And claims protection from the higher powers ;
“ The powers that be, which are ordained of God,"
To bear the sceptre, and the avenging rod !
Hark! from fair Erin's land, a mournful sound,
As from the anguish of some deadly wound !
A voice is heard ; a sad, a hollow moan !
A fearful cry, a deep, sepulchral groan !
“ Where can we look ? to whom now have recourse ?
Are not the well-springs drying at the source ?

“ Hath not the foe, already, aimed his dart,
To pierce our writhing country to the heart ?
Will he not tear her, with his ruthless fangs ?
“ And howl, exulting, o'er her dying pangs ?”
Alas ! for Ireland, must she ever be
The cruel sport of papal tyranny ?
Shall we, 'round whom truth's sunbeams brightly shine,
Give them but fragments of the light divine ?
While we believe but ONE TRUE SACRIFICE,
Shall we give sanction to a form of lies ?
Nor point to HIM, who, by ONE offering made,
The full demand of heavenly Justice paid ?
Ah ! Ireland's friends with her worst foes combine,
And in a ruinous alliance join!
There are, to Baal, those who bow the knee
E’vn in the midst of Heaven's Sanctuary !
Who, to the oblivious winds, too often throw,
Each sacred oath, and every solemn vow!
Alas! they render but a form of praise,
For the more noble works of earlier days ;
While they, by deeds, those blessed truths deny
For which their fathers did not fear to die !
O! Moderation ! misnam'd Charity !
Detestable lukewarmness ! must ye be
The specious veil ! which sycophancy draws,
To hide indifference to Truth's just cause ?
Are thus Religion's interests betray'd,
By solemn mockery, and vain parade ?
Such men are like the ever-varying vane,
Exalted high upon some lofty fane,
Whose frequent turnings serve but to declare
The constant changings of the inconstant air !
Friends of Religion ! raise your voices high !
Friends of true Freedom ! echo back the cry!
Let not the ashes of our Sires be given,
With biting scorn, unto the clouds of Heaven !
Plead, plead for Ireland, that her Church, and land,
May be secur'd against the spoiler's hand !
Let Erin's Sons, ev’n in the gasp of death,
Receive their English Brethren's favouring breath!
The cause is one ; the danger too must be,
Such as involves a common destiny !
See how the Spirits of our murder'd Sires
Still hover 'round our Altars' sacred fires !
Hark ! from the silent tomb their voices rise,
Applauding those who give their energies
To guard secure the bulwarks they once rais’d,
Ev'n while the fires of Persecution blaz'd ;
While their best heart's blood flow'd, a living stream,
Redd'ning the lurid death-pile’s melancholy gleam !

MRS. WM. BAILEY. Over Hall, 12th August, 1833.

c2

ESSAY I.

The present state and future prospects of that primitive and Apostolic branch of the Holy Catholic Church--the Church of England, briefly considered. It is the duty of every member of the social system, who happily may be raised above the passions of the swinish multitude, to contemplate all the circumstances of Religion, with that entire intensity of seriousness, which a subject of such momentous interest imperatively demands. The sceptical libertine, who is hurried onward in his career of unprincipled looseness; yet, notwithstanding all the diabolical impulses of his “ evil heart of unbelief,and though his heart cannot feel what his head dictates, still the paramount importance of Religion attracts his attention and commands his awe, wherever he may cast his jealous and malicious look. He feels too that the curb, which the laws of Heaven have imposed in some way or other on the rampant indulgence of his private lusts, acts in a manner salutary to the public weal, though not perhaps subservient to his individual views. The more extensive the general recognition of, and obedience to,

[Continued from Note, p. 206.] We havé enlarged very much, in our remarks, upon that sound and golden rule, furnished to us by Vincentius Lirinensis, that those doctrines only are to be received as Catholic, and consequently as infallibly true, which answer to the test of having been believed At all times-in all placesand by all the faithful.This foundation of Concurrent Antiquity, Universality, and Unanimous Consent, is that, upon which are grounded all those doctrines of divine faith and government, against which, the combined powers of infernal darkness, or diabolical rage, will never wage a successful warfare. Such was the rule, that our illustrious Reformers strictly kept in view, when in the face of multiplied persecution, they removed the hideous and unseemly deformities of the Papacy, from the Protestant revival and exposition of the ancient Faith and Discipline; and restored to the Church, the pristine beauty of God's ever blessed Word, disencumbered of those degrading institutions and unhallowed usur

this salutary law of restraint, is found to be, the more invigorated must necessarily be the tone of public morals, and the more innoxious the machinations of the enemies of God and man. Hence it is, that infidels however they may be disguised, or under whatever mask they may hide their infernal plots; whether they may plie their engines under the guise or even the warmest profession of the truth, or beneath the decorated exterior of our modern liberalism, or take shelter on that dangerous quicksand of all religion and morality-expediency; still their operations, however diversified in their working, are unique in their designs,

pations, which the increasing darkness and credulity of every succeding age, so powerfully contributed to foster and accelerate, until at length the power of dread Omnipotence, interposed with a mighty uplifted arm-unloosing the chains of dungeons, wherein Religion so long lay bound; so that her everlasting Truths, even like their Divine Founder, burst at once from the awful darkness of the tomb of ages, and shone throughout the land, with the softened splendours of unfading, heavenly brilliancy. With truth did the great and eloquent Bishop Jewel declare even in his day, when as yet, the papal Moloch of bloody superstition, had not quite run its bloodstained round, and when he himself had hardly recovered from the bitter effects of his persecution and exile, that—"The powerful influence which the Papists had acquired by their crafty impostures, ha's long since begun to decay and vanish before the appearance and light of the Gospel ; even as the Bird of Night retires at the approach of the rising Sun : and although the Fabric of their Idolatry has been exalted even up to heaven; yet in a moment of time, without any visible cause, it hasteneth to decay and becometh as nought” (Jewel's Apology). Our immortal Reformers, proceeding upon such unerring principles, and shielded from the wrath of man, by the direct guidance and overshadowing protection of Heaven, brought about that mighty epoch in the history of the world, which, next to the glorious manifestation of our Divine Lord in the flesh, claims our most devoted, lasting, and grateful remembrance. In contemplating the innumerable blessings, that now for centuries have ceaselessly emanated from the Reformation, we may apply to that wonderful event, the following striking lines of the Poet, which refer with as much truth to the effects then produced, as to what the writer of them had immediately in view

- And Thou, Religion, through fire and flood
By saints upheld, and sealed with holiest blood,
From clime to clime Thy glorious light expands,
And chaces darkness from rejoicing lands :
Sin's rod is broken : Superstition, long
The only Mistress of earth's erring throng,

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