[11] _The Origin and Development of Religious Belief._ By S. Baring-Gould, M.A., author of _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_, _The Silver Store_, etc. Part I. Heathenism and Mosaism. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 90, 92, and 94 Grand street. 1870. [12] "And some indeed he gave to be apostles, and some prophets and others evangelists, and others pastors and teachers." "_That we may not now be_ CHILDREN, _tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine_, in the wickedness of men, in craftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive." (St. Paul to the Ephesians, iv. 11, 14.) PLANGE FILIA SION. Lone in the dreary wilderness, Meek, by the Spirit led, For forty days and forty nights, Our Saviour hungerèd. O night winds! did ye fold your wings Ere, on that brow so pure, Ye roughly smote the uncovered head That all things did endure? O rude winds! did ye on those eves Only the flowers fill; Or, with the drops of night, his locks And sacred body chill? He, the most lovely, most divine, So lost in love for us! Our evil-starred, sin-stricken race, By him redeemèd thus! We hear the audacious tempter's words-- Amazed, we hold our breath; We follow him, the Holy One, Sorrowful unto death! Thus, may we to the wilderness Close follow thee, dear Lord, These forty days and forty nights, Obedient to thy word: Renounce the world, and Satan's wiles, In blest retreat of prayer, Self-abnegation, vigilance, And find our Saviour there. For vain the sackcloth, ashes, fast, In vain retreat in prayer, Unless the sackcloth gird the heart, True penitence be there; Sorrow for sins that helped to point The spear, the thorn, the nail. O Lord! have mercy upon us, While we those sins bewail. And in the lonely wilderness, From world and sin withdrawn, Our hearts shall cloistered be in thine Till glows glad Easter's dawn! SOPHIA MAY ECKLEY. UNTYING GORDIAN KNOTS. X. LADY SACKVIL'S JOURNAL. "I have been playing the part of a peri at the gates of paradise. I have been watching Mary Vane with her child. My life looks to me unbearable. I am a blunder on the part of nature. I have the passions of a man and the follies of a woman. This is the last entry I shall make in this book. Once for all I will put my agony into words, and then throw this wretched record of three months into the canal, to rot with the other impurities thrown daily into the sluggish flood.