5. (a) Christ our model in prayer.

(d) Lives of saints show how they united with Christ in prayer.

Hence, the Jewish day, made up as it was with sacrifices, libations, oblations, purifications, and public and private prayer, was a day of prayer.

In the New Law our Saviour is the model of prayer, the true adorer of His Father.

He warned them to watch and pray; He taught them how to pray; He gave them a form of prayer; He prayed in life and at death.

But it is certain 10 that there were public prayers, 20 that they were offered up daily in certain determined places and at fixed hours, 30 that these public prayers consisted principally of the Psalms, hymns, canticles, extracts from Sacred Scripture, the Lord's Prayer, and probably the Creed, 40 that these public prayers varied in duration according to the will of the bishop or master who presided.

We may sum up, then, all that has been said in this long section by stating that from Apostolic times there was public prayer, thrice daily.

The Church, guided by the Holy Ghost, has drawn up these volumes of liturgical prayer, so that for each season, even for each day, her official prayer may be suited to the time, to different degrees of solemnity and of rite, and so that it may be fixed and determined, yet having great beauty in its wonderful unity and variety.

The Church, guided by the Holy Ghost, has drawn up these volumes of liturgical prayer, so that for each season, even for each day, her official prayer may be suited to the time, to different degrees of solemnity and of rite, and so that it may be fixed and determined, yet having great beauty in its wonderful unity and variety.

Hence, nothing in her official prayer is left to chance, nothing is left to the selection or caprice of the individual who recites this prayer; all is foreseen, everything is in order, every tittle has a reason for its existence and its place in the liturgy, and represents the end and the intentions of the Church.

" It was Black Roger, praying in the dawn, his broadsword set upright in the ling, his hands devoutly crossed and his black head stooped full low; thus he saw not Beltane's eyes upon him until his prayer was ended.

Quoth Beltane then: "May heaven grant thee thy prayer, Roger'twas a good prayer and I the better for it.

The living turn from my fond embrace, As if no love were needed; The tears I wept on thy young dead face Were never more unheeded Than my wild prayer for peace unwon One pure affection only, One faithful heart to lean upon, When life is sad and lonely.

Thro' gloom and night, sweet flowers, drift on Drift out upon the unknown sea; Into the holy Christmas dawn Bear this impassioned prayer for me: O, turn, dear Lord, my heart away From things that are but for a day; Teach me to trust thy loving will, And bear life's heavy crosses still.

O sweeter than the breath of southern wind With all its perfumes is the whisper'd prayer From infant lips, and gentler than the hind, The feet that bear The heaven-directed youth in wisdom's pathway fair.

And thou, the early consecrate, like flowers Didst shed thy incense breath to heaven abroad; And prayer and praise the measure of thy hours, The desert trod Companionless, alone, save of the mighty God.

The amphitheatre, where stood Spell-bound the mighty multitude, Rested its long and gilded walls Upon two pillars' capitals: His brawny arms, with labor spent, He threw around the pillars there, And to the deep blue firmament Lifted his sightless orbs in prayer.

AN INFANT'S PRAYER.

The day is spent, on the calm evening hours, Like whispered prayer, come nature's sounds abroad, And with bowed heads the pure and gentle flowers Shake from their censers perfume to their God; Thus would I bow the head and bend the knee, And pour my soul's pure incense, Lord, to Thee.

Rapt christian, meek in prayer!

" O, pale grew that mother, And heavy her heart, For she knew her dear boy From her sight must depart, And be laid, cold and stiff, In the earth's humid breast, Where the wicked cease troubling, The weary have rest; But she smoothed down his pillow, And murmured a prayer, For the Giver of mercies Her loved one to spare;

No prayer of love or passion Can give my dead to me, But I bless the old, old fashion, Of immortality.

For its parents I breathed a prayer: "Only a baby!"

I heard him cry, ''Tis one we strove o'er, thou and I. "'I, with the tempter's gilded snare, Thou, with the pleading voice of prayer; Hadst thou but prayed till set of sun, My power had vanished; thou hadst won.'

Fenwick's prayer to some 'magnified non-natural man' afar off, to come and help him with his picture, was of the same kind.