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HYMN.

BY SIR HENRY WOTTON.

RISE, O my soul, with thy desires to heaven,
And with divinest contemplation, use
Thy time, where time's eternity is given,

And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse;

But down in darkness ever let them lie,

So live thy better,-let thy worse thoughts die.

And thou, my soul, inspired with holy flame,
View and review, with most regardful eye,
That holy cross whence thy salvation came,

On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die.
For in that sacred object is much pleasure,
And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure.

To thee, O Jesus, I direct my eyes,

To thee my hands, to thee my humble knees,

To thee my heart shall offer sacrifice,

To thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees : To thee myself, myself and all I give,

To thee I die, to thee I only live.

THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.

BY SIR HENRY WOTTON.

How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will,
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill:

Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death;
Untied unto the world by care

Of public fame, or private breath:

Who hath his life from rumours freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great:

Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend,

And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend.

This man is freed from servile hands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all.

COME, HOLY SPIRIT, COME.* (For the Spanish Chant.)

COME, Holy Spirit, come,
Mercies revealing;

Make this cold heart thine home;
Quicken its feeling :
Then shall my song ascend
Softly to God, and blend
With notes that never end,

Through heaven pealing.

Come, like a ray of light
Tranquilly beaming,
Chasing the shades of night,
Waking the dreaming.
Give me again to see,
As it was wont to be,
His love who ransom'd me,
From the cross streaming.

Come, Holy Spirit, come,
Thou that delightest
All to console who roam
Sad, and invitest
Mourners in faith to go

Where healing waters flow,

Still let me pleasures know
Purest and brightest.

From "Songs from the Parsonage."

TRUE PHILANTHROPY.

BY THE REV. C. WESLEY.

"God shall enlarge Japheth."-Gen. ix. 27.
LORD, may not I thy promise claim,
Made to the isles in Japheth's name?
In mercy then to me impart,
The largeness of a loving heart :
A heart to no one sect confined,
But compassing the ransom'd kind;
Capacious as the Deity,

And grasping all thy gifts in Thee.

Roche, Printer, 25, Hoxton-square, London.

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WE this month furnish our readers with what we believe they will acknowledge to be a beautiful (and, at the same time, it is a very correct) representation of a stately mansion in the north of England, accompanied by some general notices of the building itself, with which our esteemed correspondent has favoured us. By means of these notices the building will be viewed with interest on account of its historical associations, Its present occupation suggests some useful reflections. Our ancestors did much by the sword; but already, and happily, the sword is yielding to the pen: and let education be rightly conducted, and they who come forth from Hylton Castle, and similar establishments, will contribute more to the advancement of society than the valiant Knights of a former age, They "that do know their God shall be strong, and do exploits."

Hylton Castle is an ancient baronial mansion, and was the seat of the noble family whose name it bears from 1072 to 1746, when John, the last male heir, devised his estates to his nephew, Sir Richard Musgrave, Bart., of Hayton Castle. It is still a venerable pile, pleasantly situated on the northern bank of the Wear, in the county of Durham. Its present form is that of an oblong square, the central part of which is VOL. VII. Second Series.

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