I do not believe it. A respectable gentleman said to me, not long ago, "Sir, I have heard of the time, though I cannot remember it, when you could not see a merchant in the city between eleven and twelve o'clock; no, if you went to his counting-house, the answer would be, Master is gone to prayers, he will be back at such a time." And why is it, my brethren, that little or no effort is made to revive these old and better days? I am afraid we are all, or nearly all, -I speak now of those who do attend public worship—too fond of sermons, and too little fond of prayers; we make too much of what man has to say, and make too little of whet God allows us to say to him. Yet I incessantly long to see the day when the old English character shall return, and when we shall be a praying people; when in every church, and in every chapel, throughout the land, the bell shall be heard, calling the people to worship God.

Now, let me make one remark. You are aware that during Lent we have service on the Friday, at twelve o'clock, and in Passion week I hope we shall have a service every day. Let us try what we can do. Little it is, after all, that one can do, in one's short life; but let us try to see what each can do.

Now let me, in conclusion, very briefly recommend two or three points to you in reference to this matter. At first, I would say, cultivate private devotion. There is such a thing as walking with God in the midst of a wicked world like this. And secondly, I would say, cultivate family devotion. Try to let your children be taught to worship God, and, farther than this, bring your children to God's house every opportunity you have. I must say that the sound of the churchgoing bell will, I verily believe, witness against many at the great day. On Wednesday morning last, I went to St. Paul's church with my own family, and we heard a most heavenly sermon from the minister of that church, and there was not one quarter as many people to hear him as are now gathered in this church. I say, people do not know their privileges.

Verily, when I heard that faithful servant of Christ preaching a sermon that quite melted my soul, I could not help feeling, it is not the fault of the clergyman; but the people do not, as they ought, prize their priveleges. But I turn from all this. What will heaven be, do you think? To worship God for ever; to have done with earth, and sin, and death. and misery, and to have an eternity to spend in the worship of God and the Lamb! I ask no other heaven than that! God make you, and make me fit for it, and take us to it, through Jesus Christ our Lord! AMEN.-From a sermon by the Ret. Thomas Mortimer B.D., preached at St. Mark's, Middleton Square, on 6th March, 1833, and reported in "The Pulpit," No. 540.

POETRY.

THE OCEAN.

The glorious sea! more pleasing far
When all thy waters are at rest,
And noon-day sun or midnight star
Is shining on thy waveless breast.

More pleasing far than when the wings
Of stormy winds are o'er thee spread,
And every billowy mountain flings
Aloft to heaven its foaming head:

Yet is the very tempest dear,

Whose mighty voice but tells of thee;
For wild, or calm, or far, or near,
I love thee still-thou glorious sea!

F. H.

BODRIGAN'S CURSE.

AN OLDEN TALE. BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE

SHIPWRECK, &c.

CHAP. I. THE CASTLES.

BODRIGAN CASTLE was a noble building. It was built in the time of King Edward the First; in the glorious style of architecture which was first developed in his reign, and which for grandeur, combined with purity and elegance, has never been surpassed. The Castle was built on the Bodrigan estate, which stretches along the fine headland, called the Deadman's (or Dodman) Point, and was the wonder and admiration of all the country round. But in the reign of King Richard the Second a change took place in the architectural character, and, so to say, feeling. Castles were palaces rather than places of defence, but the old outline was preserved, and every wall and turret was surmounted by battlements-ornaments merely, and incapable of bearing guns. Architecture was on the decline: ornament became an essential part of construction, instead of, as it ought to be, a surface decoration; and now might be seen-as Gray humorously writes-in almost every mansion

"Rich windows which exclude the light,

And passages which lead to nothing.

SUCH then was the second castle at Bodrigan—a castle in appearance only—not in reality, not in strength. Still it was a fine and noble building-hall, and Chapel, and kitchen of becoming magnitude. This was the second Bodrigan Castle, and it was the last. In the year 1786 the hall, Chapel, and kitchens were still standing; the Chapel had been desecrated, and was used as a barn; but they were pulled down then, and no other was erected in their place. Long before that the owners had gone, and then the old house was destroyed too, and the place which had seen banquetings and hospitality, and mirth, and, at the last, trouble, quarrelling, and despair" saw them again no more."

THIS was the mansion of Sir Henry Bodrigan. Not very far off there was another mansion where Sir Hugh Trevanion lived. It was called Carhayes Castle, and was situated in the parish of S. Michael Carhayes, which adjoins that of S. Gorran. It was very large and handsome, though not equal to Bodrigan. There were hall, &c., and a chapel with richly stained glass windows. But this mansion was destroyed in the year 1808, and a new structure erected, which is still standing. It was erected on the shelving side of a gentle acclivity, facing the ocean, and surrounded by magnificent trees. Sir Hugh Trevanion, then, was a neighbour of Sir Henry Bodrigan, and also his friend, but they were not good friends-they were outwardly polite and attentive to one another, but still each suspected the other, so their friendship became nominal merely, and deadly hatred soon sprung up between them.

THE time of which I am now writing was the reign of King Richard the Third, nearly at the close of his reign; Sir Henry Bodrigan was on the side of the King, (by whom he had been knighted Bodrigan, his former name having been Trenowth); but Trevanion, and Sir Richard Edgecumbe, (who was another neighbour), secretly detested the King, and were only waiting for a fitting opportunity to declare openly their hostility. Sir Henry Bodrigan knew this, and Edgecumbe and Trevanion knew Bodrigan's attachment to the King, and this partly caused that reserve between them, which, as I have mentioned, terminated in bitter hatred. Besides Trevanion and Edgecumbe were jealous of the property and influence of Bodrigan, and, expecting the dethroning of the King, looked forward to being able to ingratiate themselves with his successor, and, by accusing Bodrigan, obtain some of his lands.

THE friendship between Trevanion and Edgecumbe was strong and lasting, and both were secretly leagued against their neighbour, for whom, however, they still maintained a certain degree of outward respect.

CHAP. II. RUMORS AND DOUBTS.

IT WAS a dark and stormy night. The sky was overclouded, and continued peals of loud thunder rang along the heavens. Sir Henry Bodrigan was sitting alone in his study. He seemed not to reck the ceaseless clamor of the elements. Before him lay paper, pens, and ink, and beside him stood his faithful servant, who seemed greatly grieved at the evidently perplexed and alarmed state of his master. Bodrigan held in his hand a letter, out of which he was reading; yet so terrible an effect had it on him, that he seemed well-nigh unable to read, and he often laid it on the table, and paused as if to take breath. At first his faithful servant, Robert, was afraid to ask him what was the matter, but at last, when he could contain himself no longer, he exclaimed :-" What ails you so, to-day, Sir?" took no notice, and seemed not to hear him; ing read and re-read the letter, he folded it up and laid it on the table; then he wrote a few hurried lines on the paper which was before him, and giving it to old Robert, exclaimed:" There, take that quickly, and deliver it to an express, who must take it at once to London, and lose no time-then come up here; I wish to tell you something."

But Sir Henry but, after hav

THE old man was astounded. He rushed at once down the broad stone stairs, and out into the stable yard, exclaiming, as he went "What can be the matter? Something very horrible must have happened! Mercy on me! Poor master?" and similar speeches. But he was not long returning to the Hall, wondering what his master could want of him. He entered the room without saying a word, and Sir Henry at once began :-" You know, Robert, how much I owe to King Richard; he has done me many favours, and were he dethroned I should be ruined, for I should be obliged to side with him, which would then be high treason. And you know too that he is an usurper and has no business with the crown; still he has conferred on me so many benefits, both before and after he became king, that I have made up my