LYRA APOSTOLICA. retained by us. The effect of such passages in the midst of the Psalms adds, it may be supposed, not a little to the impression of the whole service. It may have been remarked that always at the beginning of the seventh Lectio or third Nocturn, there is a verse from scripture, to which the words "et reliqua" are added. This was the mode of giving out the Gospel for the day, one verse being read, and "et reliqua" added, and then follows the Homily upon that Gospel. This is called the seventh Lectio, from there being three in each of the preceding Nocturns, or Vigils, which were appointed in accordance to the Psalmist's words, "At midnight will I arise," (as also the Seven Hours in the day, from the expression "seven times a day," &c.,) but these Vigils were soon united into one service for the early morning, and called Matins. Lyra Apostolica. Γνοῖεν δ', ὡς δὴ δηρὸν ἐγὼ πολέμοιο πέπαυμαι. NO. XXVI. 1. "Who shall go for us?" And I said, "Here am I: send me." DULL thunders moan around the Temple Rock, His footsteps timing as the low winds breathe; Dares in the storm go forth? Who takes th' Almighty's part? Remember'd, ties the tongue; and sadly blend 2.-SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES. Ir waiting by the time-crown'd halls, Proudly, we shew our banner'd scroll, "GOD IS MY LIGHT: whom need I fear!" How bleak, that hour, across our purpose high, Sweeps the chill, damping shade of thoughtless years gone by! How count we then lost eve and morn, The bell unwelcom'd, prayer unsaid, And holy hours and days outworn In youth's wild race, Sin's lesson newly read! On lips profane celestial lore :' And hardly dare we keep the door, Though sentries sworn; the memory thrills so keen, How with unready hearts at first we ventur'd in. 3. SPOLIATION. BUT sadder strains, and direr bodings dark, The glorious holy war; but how undo The knot our Fathers tied? Are we not spoilers too? How for God's altar may that arm be bold, Arm'd Levites then, within the Temple dome, Vain, disappointing dream! but oh! not vain, The conscience yearning to devise While spoilers keep the shrine: yet offer all, 4.-CHURCH AND KING. NOR wants there Seraph warnings, morn and eve, Our pure, unbloody gifts, what time our prayer That solemn suffrage hears? Alas! our care Is not for storms without, but stains that cleave Ingrain'd in memory, wandering thoughts profane; Or worse, proud thoughts of our instructress meek, The duteous church, heaven-prompted to that strain. Thus, when high mercy for our King we seek, Back on our wincing hearts our prayers are blown, And with our own, the offences of our land Too well agree to build our burthen high, CHRIST'S charter blurr'd with coarse, usurping hand, And gall'd with yoke of feudal tyranny The shoulders where the keys of David lie. Angel of England! who might thee withstand? Thy suit in Heaven's high courts, might one true band Be found, their cross in thine array to bear, CORRESPONDENCE. The Editor begs to remind his readers that he is not responsible for the opinions LETTERS ON THE CHURCH OF THE FATHERS. NO. XIII. Ir is a great mistake to suppose we need quit our temporal calling, and go into retirement, in order to serve God acceptably. Christianity is a religion for this world, for the busy and influential, for the rich and powerful, as well as for the poor. A writer of the age of Justin Martyr expresses this clearly and elegantly : "Christians differ not," he says, "from other men, in country, or language, or customs. They do not live in any certain cities, or employ any particular dialect, or cultivate peculiar habits of life......They dwell in cities, Greek and barbarian, each where he finds himself placed; and, while they submit to the fashion of their country in dress and food, and the general conduct of life, they yet maintain a system of interior polity, which, beyond all controversy, is admirable. The countries they inhabit are their own, but they dwell like aliens...... They marry, like other men, and do not exclude their children from their affections; their table is open to all around them; they live in the world, but not according to its fashions; they walk on earth, but their conversation is in heaven." Yet, undeniable as it is, that there is never an obligation upon Christians to leave, and often an obligation against leaving, their worldly engagements and possessions, yet it is as undeniable that such an abandonment is often allowable, and sometimes praiseworthy. Our Saviour expressly told one, who was rich and young, "to sell all and give to the poor;" and surely he does not speak to immortalize exceptions, or extreme cases, or fugitive forms of argument, refutation, or censure. Even looking at the subject in a merely human light, one may pronounce it to be a narrow and shallow system, that same ultra-protestantism, which forbids all the higher and more noble impulses of the mind, and forces men to eat, drink, and be merry, whether they will or no. But the mind of true catholic Christianity is expansive enough to admit high and low, rich and poor, one with another. If the primitive Christians are to be trusted as witnesses of the VOL. VIII.-July, 1835. G genius of the gospel system, certainly it is of that elastic and comprehensive character which removes the more powerful temptations to schism, by giving, as far as possible, a sort of indulgence to the feelings and motives which lead to it, correcting them the while, purifying them, and reining them in, before they get excessive. Thus whereas the Reason naturally loves to expatiate at will through all things known and unknown, true catholicism does not, with the church of Rome, place us within a strict and rigid creed, extending to the very minutest details of thought, so that a man can never have an opinion of his own; yet, while its creed is short and simple, and it is cautious and gentle in its decisions, and distinguishes between things necessary and things pious to believe, between wilfulness and ignorance, still it asserts the supremacy of faith, the guilt of unbelief, and the duty of deference to the church; so that Reason is brought round against and subdued to the obedience of Christ, at the very time when it seems to be launching forth without chart upon the ocean of speculation. And it opposes the intolerance of what are called "sensible protestants," as much as that of papists. It is shocked at the tyranny of those who will not let a man do anything out of the way without stamping him with the name of a fanatic. It deals softly with the ardent and impetuous, saying, in effect-" My child, you may do as many great things as you will; but I have already made a list for you to select from. You are too docile to pursue ends merely because they are of your own choosing; you seek them because they are great. You wish to live above the common course of a Christian-I can teach you to do this, yet without arrogance." Meanwhile the sensible protestant keeps to his point, urging every one to be as every one else, and moulding all minds upon one small model; and, to his surprise, finds half his charge turn schismatics, while searching for something divine and extraordinary. These remarks are intended as introductory to some notice of the life of St. Antony, the first hermit, whom I have lately had occasion to notice. A hermit's life, indeed-i. e., a strictly monastic or solitary life-may be called unnatural, and is not sanctioned by the Gospel. Christ sent his apostles by two and two; and surely he knew what was in man from the day that he said-" It is not good for him to be alone." So far, then, Antony's manner of life has no claim upon our admiration; but this part of the precedent of it did not extend to his imitators, who by their numbers were soon led to the formation of monastic societies, and who, after a while, entangled even Antony himself in the tie of becoming their religious head and teacher. Monachism, essentially consisting, not in solitariness, but in austerities, prayers, and retirement, had nothing in it, so far, but what was perfectly Christian, and, under circumstances, exemplary; especially when viewed in its connexion with the relative duties, which were soon afterwards appropriated to it, of being almoner of the poor, educating for the clergy, and defending the faith as delivered to us. In short, Monachism became, in a little while, nothing else than a peculiar department of the Christian ministry--a ministry not of the sacraments (i.e., clerical), but especially of the word and doctrine; not indeed by any formal ordination to it, for it was as yet a lay profession, but by the common right, or rather duty, which attaches to all of us to avow, propagate, and defend the truth, especially when our devotion to it has the countenance and encouragement of church authorities. St. Antony's life, written by his friend Athanasius, has come down to us. Some critics, indeed, doubt its genuineness, or consider it interpolated. Basnage rejects it, I believe; Du Pin decides, on the whole, that it is his, but with additions; the Benedictines and Tillemont ascribe it to him unhesitatingly; and, as I conceive, with justice. However, at least, no question can be raised about its substantial accuracy; and on rising from the perusal of it, we are able to pronounce Antony an extraordinary man. Enthusiastic he certainly was; had he lived in this day, he would have been exposed to a considerable (though, of course, not insuperable) temptation to become a sectarian. Panting after some higher rule of life than that which the ordinary forms of society admit of, and finding our present lines too rigidly drawn to include any style of mind that is out of the way, any rule that is not "gentlemanlike," "comfortable," and "established," he would possibly have broken what he could not bend. The question is not whether he would have been justified in so doing; (of course not;) nor whether the most angelic temper of all is not that which settles down content with what is every day, as Abraham's heavenly guests eat of the calf which he had dressed, and as our Saviour went down to Nazareth, and was subject to his parents; but whether such resignation to worldly comforts is not often the characteristic of a very grovelling mind also,-whether there are not minds between the lowest and the highest, of ardent feelings, keen imaginations, and undisciplined tempers, who are under a strong irritation prompting them to run wild, whether it is not our duty (so to speak) to play with such, carefully letting out line lest they snap it, and whether our church is as indulgent and as wise as is desirable in her treatment of such persons, inasmuch as she provides no occupation for them, lets the advantage she possesses in them to run to waste, tempts them to schism, and loses them, and is weakened by the loss. For instance, had she some regular missionary seminary, such an institution would in one way supply her deficiency. But to return to Antony. Did he live in our time, I should consider him somewhat of an enthusiast; but what I desire to point out to the reader is the subdued and Christian form which his enthusiasm took; it was not vulgar, bustling, unmanly, unstable, undutiful; it was calm and composed, intrepid, magnanimous, full of affectionate loyalty to the church and the truth. Antony was an Egyptian by birth, and the son of noble, opulent, and Christian parents. He was brought up as a Christian, and, from his boyhood, shewed a strong disposition towards a solitary life. Shrinking from the society of his equals, and despising the external world in comparison of the world within him, he set himself against what is considered a liberal education-i. e., the acquisition of foreign languages-at the same time he was very dutiful to his parents, simple |