pleasures and fleeting joys which the tempter would hold out to lure them from their Lord; they pray that they may rather abide for ever beneath the shadow of their Saviour's cross, than turn back to that which they know can never satisfy their longing souls.

They can trust Him now, though once they shrank from His cup in fear; and He who, in the garden of His agony, did, Himself, for one moment shrink from His Father's cup, does not chide His trembling children for the fainting of heart which He Himself has known, but rather with gentle hand He leads them on, whispering day by day in softest accents to their souls, 'Follow thou Me.'

He, the Lord of all, in that His hour of agony, had the ministry of an angel to strengthen the weakness of His human soul; but they-His chosen ones-have Himself; united to them for evermore in sacramental union; closer to them in that mysterious nearness, than He was to the sufferers upon earth when He walked among them and 'bare their sicknesses.'

And now they can trust Him quite ;* with their yearning throbbing hearts, which still would often sink without His abiding presence,—with their earthly love and their earthly joy,-with the unfulfilled desires which have crushed them to the dust, and which they have vainly. tried to crush in return,-with the vague dreams and unaccomplished purposes of a life which would fain have spent itself for Him,-with the weariness and pain, or the fretting cares of every day as it comes,-with all

these, and more than these,—yes, even with the fear of the dark valley, and the horror of the shadow of death, they can trust Him now.

A LITANY.

M. E. T.

LORD JESUS CHRIST, who for our sakes didst endure Thine agony in the garden,

Have mercy upon me.

O Lord Jesus Christ, whose soul in that hour was exceeding sorrowful even unto death,

Have compassion upon me, when oppressed with the dread of coming grief.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who didst pray that Thy Father's cup might pass from Thee,

Strengthen me when I shrink from the fellowship of Thy sufferings.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who didst bow in holy submission to Thy Father's will,

Teach me to say, Thy will be done.'

O Lord Jesus Christ, who didst deign to ask the sympathy of Thy chosen Three,

Watch with me, I beseech Thee, through the darkness of this world.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who wast strengthened by the ministry of an angel,

Let Thy holy angels minister unto me.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who wast forsaken by Thy disciples in Thine utmost need,

Draw near to me, I beseech Thee, in the loneliness

of sorrow.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who on the Hill of Calvary didst faint beneath the weight of Thy cross,

Help me when my burden seems greater than I can bear.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who didst meekly receive the revilings of Thine enemies,

Teach me cheerfully to bear the injuries of men. O Lord Jesus Christ, who for one moment didst endure the hiding of Thy Father's face,

Teach me humbly to bow beneath the chastisements

of God.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who even in the hour of death didst take thought for Thy desolate mother, and speak peace to the penitent on the cross,

Grant me grace to forget my own sufferings in

loving care for others.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who after the sorrows of Thine earthly life didst rest Thy sacred body for three days in the tomb,

Grant me, I beseech Thee, to rest in Thee here, and with Thee hereafter; for Thy merits and mercies' sake, who now livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.

B. M.

'Behold, bless ye the Lord, all ye servants of the Lord, which by night stand in the house of the Lord.'

Yet joyful priests do minister around

The altar, where the lights are burning low,

In the breathless night. Each grave brow wears the

crown

Of sorrow, and each heart is kept awake

By its own restless pain, for these are they
To whom the night-watch is appointed. See!
They lift their hands, and bless God in the Night!
Whilst we are sleeping, those to whom the King
Has measured out a cup of sorrow, sweet
With His dear love, yet very hard to drink,
Are waking in His temple, and the eyes
That cannot sleep for sorrow or for pain
Are lifted up to heaven; and sweet low songs,
Broken by patient tears, arise to God.
Bless ye the Lord, ye servants of the Lord,
Which stand by night within His holy place
To give him worship! ye are priests to Him,
And minister around the altar, pale
Yet joyful in the night.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.

THESE thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them,

This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet, My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem,

My heart remembers it.

I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees,

I, precious more than seven times molten gold,—— Until the day when from His store-houses,

God shall bring new and old.

Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief,

Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness,

Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf,
I languish and grow less,

Although to-day I walk in tedious ways,
To-day His staff is turned into a rod,
Yet will I wait for Him the appointed days,
And stay upon my God.

THROUGH Gethsemane to Heaven,
By Mount Olivet to the Throne,
By suffering to glory.'