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of the people, for the people are undoubtedly favourable to her order and discipline; he must observe the favour now frequently shown to revived Church arrangement; and his zeal must be warmed and comforted as he bears witness to the improved tone of worship and appearance of devotion in many of our Congregations. Church People are awakening to the necessity, too, for throwing off the shackles which have so long stunted the work of the Church: they are thinking about the abolition of pews, as for the common worship of a common family to their heavenly Father; and the renewal of the weekly Offertory, as an apostolic and righteous means of Church support.

The periodical Church literature of the day has done much under God towards all this Church work: for while the more earnest Clergy relax no effort, it is here that Clergy and Laity can enter hand in hand, and make common cause for the Church. "The Oxford Magazine," we trust, has helped its little as an "Advocate for the Church," and even while offering to its readers quite as interesting readings as most of its compeers, yet even here it has breathed some wholesome lessons, and has been of use, beyond the direct teaching of its steadier articles, in doing Church work.

Should another Volume be entertained it will be necessary for its vitality to raise the price to Sixpence on its permanent enlargement to forty-eight pages monthly, Already we are in possession of important materiel to commence this arrangement, but we are disinclined to undertake the responsibility if the announcement of its future increased price should give token in the meanwhile of any falling off in its present circulation.

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"Art thou weary, art thou languid" (Music and Words)

"Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning" (Music and Words)
Broken Thread, The

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Cathedrals and Choral Service

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Churchman's Union, A; its Work and its Responsibilities

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24. 79. 80. 80b. 112b. 192. 218. 272. 292. 348. 483

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Dirge in Memory of Rev. F. W. Faber

"Domine, quo vadis ?"

Double Love: or, The Twin Sisters
Dying Fancy

Early Roses

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Lascelles paused for a few moments to arrange his ideas. Wagner, meanwhile, nestling yet deeper among the cushions of his sofa, continued to pour out streams of smoke until his whole countenance was lost and indistinct in its spiral grey curls.

"Potztausend, my friend, what you lose in not smoking! This Turkish-it is pure from Constantinople-is divine, is transporting. As I listen to your narrative I lose myself; I am exalted into other spheres; I become the Sultan, and you the too-charming Sultana; you speak of wrongs,-I lament; of resolutions,-I become firm; of revenge, I burn. This room,—it is no longer the guestchamber of the Red Lion, in perhaps the dullest town of your gloomy England. It fades away, it is gone; Hey, presto! We are in Bagdad-Stauboul-Cairo-where you will, surrounded by dreamy visions of colour and gold, light and shade, incense and perfumes. Hail to thee, Oh tabac! Thrice delicious! Hail! My friend, I am all attention."-For his rhapsody was cut short by a keen impatient glance from Lascelles, the imperturbable.

"What I have to say requires no common attention. Be good enough to give me your whole thoughts. Now, I will continue; why did I go to Oscott, and become the Earl's Secretary? Simply for the advantage of a fixed income. I had no plan, no plot to work out, when I engaged myself in his service. I sought for rest and quiet; but my mind could not rest. Despising my fellow men as I do, I cannot help studying them and reading their characters; it is the sole occupation in which I find any interest. The more I look into men the more I hate them; the more I hate them, the more I

A

study them. I don't boast when I say that my penetration is unerring. I have never yet failed in reading the character of any one. Sometimes it is easy, at other times hard; for they are books all written in one and the same language, though the hand-writing may vary. Do you not see-mere butterfly as you are-do you not see that I do so to escape from myself. I cannot devour my own liver for ever. Some saints devote their time to self-examination and self-knowledge. They probe and pierce and cut and wound until they acquire the full knowledge of their own ghastly inner self. I have that knowledge; but by no such meritorious process. I have seen and do see myself. It is too dreadful a companion to be borne, and I try to escape from it by projecting my mind upon others. You never

feel this ?"

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Certainly not, my good Lascelles. Pour quoi? why should I ?" "I know you are not religious, but have you no conscience ?" "I have never made its acquaintance."

"Remorse ?"

"By no means. Why? I never reflect; I never look backwards or forwards; the present is enough."

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"Of course; I was a fool to ask. How strange it is! I am a bad man; not religious in any way; without creed or prayer; wrapped up in self; and yet my conscience is left me, keen and quick, an instrument of torture the most terrible. I do know myself. I could confess every sin,—its cause, its motive, its increase, its results. All my acts are photographed for ever on my brain. I have no past, for the whole past is concentrated into a ghastly phantom which is myself, which is ever present to haunt me, and from which I cannot escape. Well, I am both weak and foolish to trouble you with this soul-anatomy. I only mentioned it as an introduction to what follows. I could not be long at Oscott without studying its master. What are his weak points ?' I asked myself. Following my old system, I assumed at once that he had some secret, something to conceal. Then I set to work to discover those points in his character which would indicate the nature of this secret. I had turned but a few leaves of my book before I came upon Pride, Cowardice, and Faithlessness. I simply mention them as traits of character, not as faults or sins; I have nothing to do with them. His pride was chiefly shown by a constant restless self-assertion; not pride of family or wealth so much as of self,-intense self-consciousness,-intense jealousy of any one who seemed to doubt or question his position. There was not that calm self-assurance and reliance which you generally see in a proud man. The Earl's pride was all on the defensive, as though his position was assailable. Here, then, was step the first. His pride proceeded mainly from fear. Fear Of what?' 'Of whom?' Of some one who should assail him. 'But assail what?' If his position, then his position must be untenable. Well, here was a man of good family, of noble position, of refined manners, of princely wealth, evidently in fear, and endeavouring to conceal that fear by restless pride. Now, observe: his refined

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