CATECHIST.-The Chair of the

The chair of the catechist of old was filled by the highest autu talents, and the deepest learning: and he that would duly quaiwhile he is exercising the memories of boyhood, and seeking t tions and enlighten the understanding, add to biblical knowledge heart and the investigation of the mind; he must read the living nature-Archdeacon Bayley.

CATECHIST.-The Prayer of a

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God of the Universe, hear me! thou Fountain of Love everias
Hark to the voice of Thy servant! I send up my prayer to Tr
Let me hereafter not miss at Thy throne one spirit of all thes
Whom Thou hast given me here. I have loved them all like & fau-
May they bear witness for me that I taught them the way of Bava
Faithful, so far as I knew of Thy Word. Again may they know
Fall on their teacher's breast, and before Thy face may I place the.
Pure as they now are, but only more tried, and exclaiming with gu
"Father, lo! I am here, and the children whom Thou hast given

CATHEDRAL-The Chimes of a

What a shower of sprinkling music-drops comes from the r Seventy-three bells in chromatic diapason-with their tinkling r knolling peal! Was not that a chime? a chime of chimes? and rising and falling by magic, by hidden mechanism, like hands ar What head conceived those harmonies-so ghost-like, so etherea minutes, if you lie wakeful at night, they wind you up in the work, and swing you in the clouds; and the next time they sw the next higher; and when the round hour is full, the giant gate of heaven to bring you home!-H. B. Stowe.

CATHEDRAL-The Church-Relationship of the

The Cathedral Church is called the "the mother Chure c. is the parish Church of all the Churches in the diocese.-B

CATHEDRAL.-The Majesty of a

There is a majesty about those up-springing arches-t so lofty-it makes one feel as if rising like a cloud. Ther plications and endless perspectives, arch above arch. a lighted up and coloured by the painted glass, and all thus the chant and the organ, rising and falling like the n of the few overpowering things that do not satisfy, bea mee beyond the restless anxiety to be satisfied, and dd question "Am I pleased?" As I walked with those lofty arches, and saw the clouds of incense and heard the pathetic yet grand voices of the ch there is some part in man that calls for such as Prodeur and beauty !"-H. B. Stowe.

And grace the harmonious choir, celestial feast
To pious ears, and medicine of the mind!
The thrilling trebles, and the manly bass,
Join in accordance meet, and with one voice
All to the sacred subject suit their song;
While in each breast sweet melancholy reigns,
Angelically pensive, till the joy

Improves and purifies.-Smart.

Hidden in the midst of forest arches of stone, pouring forth its volumes of harmony as by unseen minstrelsy, it seemed to create an atmosphere of sound, in which the massive columns seemed translused,-not standing, as it were, but floating, not resting, as with weight of granite mountains, but growing as by a spirit of law and development. Filled with those vast waves and undulations, the immense edifice seemed a creature, tremulous with life, a soul, and instinct of its own; and out of its deepest heart there seemed to struggle upward breathings of unutterable emotion !-H. B. Stowe.

CATHEDRAL.-The Sanctity of the

The cathedral, whether it be attended by few or many worshippers, is still the perpetual temple of the Holy Ghost-the altar of morning and evening sacrificethe oratory of daily and unceasing prayer.-Bishop Selwyn.

CATHEDRAL.-The Service of a

The cathedral service is the very highest ideal of the earthly worship of Almighty God. The building seems so full of ages of song, that the old echoes are wakened to become the chorus to the anthems of to-day. The carved angelic corbels lean over the surpliced singers, till one wonders whether they are listening to, or making, the music of the services. The Psalter, as they chant it, furnishes, in every verse, with the thoughtful modulation and adaptation of organ and voice, a comment on its meaning, as though a seraph sang a sermon on the words; and the ringing fulness of the Amens, or the pleading entreaty of Confession or Litany, answer, awaken, and satisfy the most intense idea of penitence or praise. -Bishop Doane.

A dim and mighty minster of old time!
A temple shadowy with remembrances
Of the majestic past!-the very light
Streams with a colouring of heroic days

In every ray, which leads through arch and aisle

A path of dreamy lustre, wandering back
To other years;--and the rich fretted roof,
And the wrought coronals of summer leaves,
Ivy and vine, and many a sculptured rose-
The tenderest image of mortality—

Binding the slender columns, whose light shafts
Cluster like stems in corn sheaves,-all these things
Tell of a race that nobly, fearlessly,

On their heart's worship poured a wealth of love!
Honour be with the dead!-the people kneel
Under the helms of antique chivalry,

And in the crimson gloom from banners thrown

And midst the forms, in pale proud slumber carved
Of warriors on their tombs.-The people kneel

Where mail-clad chiefs have knelt; where jewelled crowns
On the flushed brows of conquerors have been set;
Where the high anthems of old victories

Have made the dust give echoes. Lo! the cross
High o'er the banners and the crests of earth,
Fixed in its meek and still supremacy!

And lo! the throng of beating human hearts,
With all their secret scrolls of buried grief,
All their full treasuries of immortal hope,
Gathered before their God! Hark! how the flood
Of the rich organ harmony bears up

Their voice on its high waves!-a mighty burst !—
A forest-sounding music! every tone

Which the blast calls forth with their harping wings
From gulfs of tossing foliage there is blent :
And the old minster, forest-like itself,

With its long avenues of pillared shade,
Seems quivering all with spirit, as that strain
O'erflows its dim recesses, leaving not

One tomb unthrilled by the strong sympathy
Answering the electric notes !-Hemans.

CATHEDRAL.-Solemnity Felt in a

When we enter one of those antique piles, I know not that it is possible for the heart of man to desire any addition to the magnetic solemnity of the whole scene. The tall, narrow windows, quite dark with the long purple garments of pictured martyrs, apostles, and kings, tinge every ray that passes through them with the colours and the memory of a thousand years of devotion.-W. Irving.

CATHEDRAL.—Thoughts in a

I lingered in a dim cathedral nave,

And watched the dusk across the marble floor
Creep silently, as glides the stealthy wave
Over the gleaming pebbles of the shore.

The shadows of that winter eventide

Shrouded the glory of the solemn choir,
Save where the chancel windows ruby-dyed,
Burned like the embers of a fading fire.
No sudden strain of organ-notes awoke
Within my soul the melody of prayer,
No silver burst of chanting voices broke
The utter stillness that was reigning there,
But as I stood within that ancient fane
A wondrous peace upon my spirit fell,
A sense of rest to sooth the weary brain,
A bliss that I can find no words to tell.

I thought of those whose earnest toil and strength
Had shaped each sacred stone and found its place,
Till the whole building fitly framed at length

Was perfect in its majesty and grace.

I thought of all the blessed ones who trod

The time-worn pavement with such patient feet;
Now are they numbered with the saints of God,
Now in the rest of Paradise they meet.

And as I mused, I seemed to see the shades
Of those old worshippers of days gone by;
They gathered softly in the long arcades

Like evening clouds that haunt the western sky.

Bishops and priests and virgins slowly swept

In vast procession through these arches dim;
I saw their tranquil faces, and I wept

For very joy to hear their holy hymn.

"Oh praise the Lord," they chanted as they passed,
"Praise Him, ye angels, praise Him, stars and light;"
Thus sung they like a silver-trumpet blast,

"Praise Him, ye heavens, praise Him in the height!"

Oft in her loneliness my soul re-calls

That vision in the minster far away;

The strain that fancy heard within those walls
Shall echo through my memory for aye,-

To give me calmness in the world's turmoil,
And courage if the battle should be sore;
Until I reach the end of earthly toil,

And in life's twilight hear that song once more.-S. Doudney.

CATHEDRAL.-A Wish concerning a

I wished that so magnificent a conception, so sublime a blossom of stone sculpture, might come to ripe maturity, not as a Church, indeed, but rather as a beautiful petrifaction, a growth of prolific, exuberant nature. Why should not the yeasty brain of man, fermenting, froth over in such crestwork of Gothic pinnacle, spire, and column?-H. B. Stowe.

CATHEDRAL-TOWN.-A

Anything more striking than an English cathedral-town would be difficult to find. As you approach it, the great old building catches your eye. It stands with its venerable beauty crowning and consecrating the town that nestles at its feet, that gets close to it, that looks up to it, that has often no other distinction, and sometimes no other life than its cathedral. It takes its time from the cathedral chimes. It is tuneful with the cathedral choir. Its traditions have nothing older, its expectations nothing lovelier than the cathedral itself; and, as you go out of the place, up to the great building, you are in an atmosphere that mingles all that is venerable in time, with all that is celestial and eternal in feeling. The very building is a petrified history.—Bishop Doane.

CATHEDRALS.-Love for

I love our old cathedrals,

When the morning sunbeams shine
Through the richly painted windows
Above the altar-shrine;

I love our old cathedrals,

When the evening lamps burn bright,
And through the lofty arches stream
Their rays of softest light.

I love our old cathedrals,

With their organs pealing high,
While the choristers are singing.
And the vaulted roofs reply;

I love our old cathedrals,

With the anthem pealing loud,

When praises are ascending

From the densely mingled crowd.

I love our old cathedrals,

When heaven-devoted zeal

Unites the heart and voice in prayer
For man's eternal weal;

I love our old cathedrals,

Where truths divine are taught,
The myst'ries of that holy faith

For which our fathers fought.-Rawlinson.

CATHEDRALS.-The Money Spent on

The wealth spent on them is a sublime and beautiful protest against material. ism-against that use of money which merely brings supply to the coarse animal wants of life, and which makes God's House only a bare pen, in which a man sits to be instructed in his duties.-H. B. Stowe.

CATHEDRALS.-The Personality of

Though cathedrals have a general design in them all, yet they seem, each one, to have its own personality, as much as a human being. Looking at nineteen of them is no compensation to you for omitting the twentieth; there will certainly be something new and peculiar in that.-H. B. Stowe.

CATHEDRALS.-The Way to Destroy

Remove from the cathedrals the love of devotion, study, and meditation, which have often in time past found here a congenial home; make devotion, study, and meditation impossible for those who draw a revenue from them-and you kill them as institutions though you may preserve them as monuments.— Dean Goulburn.

CELIBACY-Condemned.

The state of celibacy is great hypocrisy and wickedness. Christ with one sentence confutes all arguments for it :-" God created them male and female."Luther.