And is the Christian zeal less warm?

When such as they

Beckon, Away!

And is the Christian hope less glorious?

The axe, that hews a martyr down,

Opens the passage to his crown:

He does but sleep to-night in sorrow,

To wake in Paradise to-morrow.

Blessed are ye at whom is flung
The taunt of every envious tongue!

Because your life puts theirs to shame,

And turns to infamy their fame.

Despised on earth!

A theme for mirth,

From lips of lying men:

Your name shall sound

Heaven's courts around:

Your God your glory then.

E

340

Spirit of Wisdom! Aid our CHOICE
With whispers of Thy still, small, voice:
That we the better part, with Mary,
May choose, and from it never vary;
To sit with her at Jesus' feet,

Till Thou shalt make our spirits meet
For the inheritance of light,

To dwell for ever in His sight.

350

The Engraving at the head of the above lines represents the old Chapel of Buttermere, which has been lately taken down, and a new one built at the sole cost of a stranger, the Reverend Vaughan Thomas, of Oxford.