signification than the words, "through Jesus Christ our Lord," wherewith the prayers of the Church are concluded.

Thus far as to the highest and most absolute meaning of the word. Now let us examine the manifold senses in which it is applied. It is of great consequence to observe what situation this word occupies in our discourse—whether it be placed at the beginning or the end. Every one conversant with the Gospel is aware who it is that ordinarily commences his discourse with the word 'amen;' it is He who is Himself the absolute truth, the real Amen.' "Amen, I say unto you; Amen, amen, I say unto you," were His common, His peculiar mode of speaking; signifying nothing less than, 'Thus speaks to you the eternal truth.' When the Apostle desired, in like manner, to prefix to his words the seal of truth, he did not commence with 'amen,' as he spoke not in his own name, but in that of Christ; and therefore he contented himself with the assurance, "I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not; a faithful word, and worthy of all acceptation."

The word 'amen,' whenever employed by us, is placed at the end. And what would we hereby signify? Principally our confidence and the firm assurance of our faith, and also our inmost desire of the accomplishment of our wishes and petitions. Thus it is written in the 105th Psalm: "Blessed be the Lord our God, from eternity to eternity; and let all the people reply, Amen, amen." This inmost and unconditional desire was the spirit which called forth that great and noble exclamation from the holy doctor and martyr Cyprian, when, in presence of a numerous assembly, his condem

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nation for being a Christian was publicly pronounced. And what was this exclamation? The sentence of the Proconsul was read to him, decreeing that Thascius Cyprianus should be put to death by the sword. The Saint, raising his voice, replied, Amen.' And was not this a noble amen?' With it he sealed his cheerful acceptance of his condemnation, for the greater glory of the Divine name, for his entrance into the kingdom of light, for the joyful fulfilment of the will of God, and for the atonement of all his past sins. And when we, in a far less difficult situation, pronounce 'amen' at the close of our prayer, what do we wish to signify? Our confidence in God, that He will fulfil our petitions (Psalm xix.), and our confidence that we shall observe what we have promised; "For with God it is not yes and no, but always yes."

And is there with us also a constant Yes?' "Alas," sighs the Apostle, "the good which I would, I do not; and the evil which I would not, that I do; I rejoice according to the interior man in the law of God; but I see another law in my members in opposition with the law of the spirit, which holds me captive." (Rom. vii.) Is not this the history of the life of man-the constant opposition of lies with truth—the unhappy impediment to every human 'amen?'

On this subject we will find space for an example, which may suffice for a thousand others. Edgar, one of the ancient Saxon kings, had been deprived by death of his wife, and had now determined to enter upon a second marriage. He had heard extolled the beauty and virtue of Elfrida, daughter of the Earl of Devonshire; and he resolved to commission Ethelwold, his

favourite minister, to visit the far-famed lady; and, if he should think her worthy, to demand her for the king. Ethelwold came and saw, and not only found that fame had spoken truly, but was himself so captivated, that, forgetful of his fidelity to his sovereign, he resolved to make no mention of his commission, but to seek the hand of Elfrida for himself. Having obtained her consent, he returned to his master, and by his assurance that Elfrida was not worthy of the hand of so powerful a king, removed from Edgar's mind all intention of the marriage. After some time, he solicited permission to espouse Elfrida himself. The king granted his prayer, and dismissed him; and Ethelwold departed, and conducted Elfrida to one of his hunting-castles, hoping that there she would be concealed from the king.

Notwithstanding all his precautions, his wife's beauty could not remain concealed, and at length it was reported even to the king. The curiosity no less than the anger of Edgar was now excited; and, to learn what was really the truth, he ordered a chase, and by taking a wide circuit arrived at the castle of Ethelwold. The nobleman had no sooner, to his great alarm, heard of the approach of the king, than he hastened to reveal to his wife the whole history of the transaction, and entreated her to pardon the deception his too great love had caused him to be guilty of towards herself and the king, and implored her with tears that she would, as far as possible, conceal her beauty, and appear in her simplest dress.

But how did Elfrida act in an affair so perilous to her husband? Did she disfigure her face with false colouring, and clothe herself in plain attire, and seek

by every means to conceal her charms? Far from it. The temptation was too strong for this daughter of Eve. Forgetful alike of her husband and of her little son, she arrayed herself with her choicest ornaments, and displayed her beauty in all its brilliancy. Her own

infidelity, and the death of her husband, were the consequences. Here we behold a threefold struggle of human passion against truth and fidelity. Ethelwold violated his plighted word to his sovereign, and forgot his amen' by a temptation of envy; Elfrida forgot the 'amen' she had sworn to God and to her husband, being led away by the suggestions of vanity; Edgar, in fine, despised the amen' of a state sanctified by God when to the passion which had already taken possession of his heart he associated revenge.

Other events similar to this, wherewith the history of man so lamentably abounds, evidently shew, however great and noble a word 'amen' may be with respect to the sanctity and omnipotence of God, it is in the mouth of man a dangerous and insidious word. Its import and application in the Lord's Prayer is sevenfold, as it is a seal to each petition. Thus, if we expressed ourselves fully, we might say, 'Thy will be done. Amen. Forgive us, as we forgive others. Amen. Lead us not into temptation. Amen. But deliver us from evil. Amen.' But what testimony does not this amen' give against us, if we do not seek a knowledge of the Divine will, or follow up its dictates; if we do not pardon our enemies, if we freely expose ourselves to temptations, and if we ourselves sow evil?

This melancholy difference between the divine and the humanamen' was in the mind of St. Paul when

he declared, "that God alone is true, and all men deceitful." For if even the holy and sincere are encompassed by many deceptions which darken their understanding and weaken their will, what will become of those who deliberately oppose the amen' of God, His person, His power, and His fruitful love, as well as His positive revelation, in order thus to throw off all subjection to their Creator? "Who say to the prophets, See not what is right; speak what is pleasing to us; prophesy for us deceits." (Isaias xxx.) Will their no,' their negation, destroy the 'yes,' the affirmation, of God?

Of this we behold a remarkable example in Rodolph, king of the Heruleans. He was about to engage in a decisive battle with the Lombards; but as he imagined himself secure of victory at the very commencement of the contest, he remained in his tent playing at chess. However, that he might not be ignorant of the progress of the battle, and that he might be informed of the defeat of the enemy, he ordered one of his shield-bearers to ascend a high tree which stood before the tent, and to watch both armies; but added this extraordinary warning, 'Take care not to tell me that my Heruleans fly; for otherwise thy head shall be struck off!' The man in the tree observed his instructions to the letter; whenever he was asked how affairs proceeded, he always replied, Very well! very well!' At length he burst out into a cry which he had long restrained. • What

is it?' exclaimed the king; are my Heruleans slain?' Sire,' replied the other from his watch-place, my head is at stake; I have not said it, but yourself!' Thereupon the king sprang forward to arm himself for