ring the English order of service as set forth under King Edward, and others desiring to adopt the regulations of the Genevan church. He endeavoured to mediate between the parties, and with some of the members drew up a summary of the Book of Common Prayer; and, having translated it into latin, sent it to Calvin for his opinion and advice. The answer returned by that reformer had the effect of repressing the keenness of such as had urged the unlimited use of the Liturgy, and a committee was appointed to draw up a form which might put an end to all differences. When this committee met, Knox told them that he was convinced it was necessary for one of the parties to relent, before they could come to an amicable settlement; and that he would therefore state what he judged most proper to be done, and having exonerated himself, would allow them, without opposition, to determine as they should answer to God and the church. They accordingly agreed upon a form of worship, in which some things were taken from the English liturgy, and others added, which were thought suitable to their circumstances.

Tranquillity seemed to be thus restored, when the arrival of some more refugees, among whom was Dr. Cox, who had been preceptor to Edward VI. led to the renewal of disorder. These gentlemen, being more attached to the English form than their brethren, answered aloud after the minister in the time of divine service; and on the next Sunday abruptly commenced the reading of the litany. In the afternoon Knox in his lecture noticed the manner in which offences committed by professors of religion ought to be treated; mentioned that there were infirmities in their conduct over which a veil should be thrown; but remarked, that offences which openly dishonoured God, and disturbed the peace of

the church, ought to be disclosed and publicly rebuked. He then adverted to the interruption which the good order of the assembly had experienced in the morning from the newly-arrived refugees, in a tone, which his own want of attachment to the government and ritual of the Church of England might appear to justify to his own mind, but which was sufficiently irritating to those who were accustomed to regard both with reverential complacency, and who might have erred in the mode rather than

in the principle of their action. Faults there may have been on both sides; but if one party considered strict adherence to the ecclesiastical ceremony and discipline of the English communion as sinful compliance, the other might be excused for regarding conformity to the French worship as sinful compromise. Dr. Cox and his friends being admitted to vote, as members of the congregation, obtained a majority of voices, and Knox was discharged from preaching, and from all interference in congregational affairs.

Some of the members represented these proceedings to the Senate of Frankfort, who, after in vain recommending a private accommodation, issued an order that exact conformity to the French practice should be observed, on pain of prohibition of further toleration. This extremity drove the supporters of Dr. Cox to unjustifiable measures. Two of them went privately to the magistrates, and accused Knox of high treason against the Emperor of Germany, his son Philip, and Queen Mary of England; putting into their hands a copy of his " Admonition to England," in which they pointed out the following passage as substantiating their charge, originally spoken to the inhabitants of Amersham in Buckinghamshire, on occasion of the rumoured marriage of Queen Mary with Philip: “O

England, England, if thou obstinately will return into Egypt, that is, if thou contract marriage, confederacy, or league with such princes as do maintain and advance idolatry; such as the Emperor, who is no less enemy to Christ than ever was Nero if for the pleasure of such princes thou return to thy old abominations before used under Papistry, then assuredly, O England, thou shalt be plagued and brought to desolation, by the means of those whose favour thou seekest! "

The magistrates inquired of Whittingham, a respectable Englishman, the character of the accused, and were assured that he was "a learned, grave, and godly man." They were perplexed accordingly as to the course, which it became them to pursue: believing, on the one hand, that the charge was malicious; but fearing, on the other, that information would be conveyed to the Augsburg Council, and that they might be obliged to deliver him up to them, or to the English government. In this dilemma, they desired Whittingham to advise his friend to retire of his own accord from Frankfort. On the 25th of March, Knox addressed a valedictory discourse to about fifty members of the congregation, who assembled at his lodgings in the evening, and the next day left the city, attended for several miles by the same friends, who bade him farewell with many tears. He went directly to Geneva, where he was cordially welcomed back by Calvin. He desired, however, to return to his own country, as soon as a door was opened by Providence; and two causes seemed now to be reviving the interest of the Reformation— the elevation of the Queen Dowager to the regency of Scotland, and the accession of Mary to the throne of England. The former of these personages had, at an early period, made her court to the Protestants, whom Arran had alienated from him by persecution; and to induce

them to favour her pretensions, had promised to defend them from the violence of the clergy. The latter, by her ill-advised union with the King of Spain, had pursued a course offensive to the Queen Regent, who was indissolubly attached to France; and the English Protestants who fled from the cruelty of the Tudor, received protection from the policy of the Stuart. In the month of August, 1555, Knox set out from Geneva for Dieppe, where he took sail, and landing on the English border, repaired immediately to Berwick. After a while he paid a secret visit to the Protestants in Edinburgh, where he lodged with James Syme, a respectable burgess, to whose house a reformed flock hasted to receive instruction from their well-known countryman. He found that most of these persons continued to attend the celebration of the mass, from weakness of faith, dimness of light, or fear of persecution; and he endeavoured to convince them that this was no venial bowing in the house of Rimmon.

Erskine of Dun, one of his hearers, prevailed on him to accompany him to his family seat, in the shire of Angus, where he continued a month, preaching every day; and in the beginning of the following year was conducted by two other friends, Lockhart of Bar, and Campbell of Kineancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient receptacle of the Scottish Lollards; where he preached in the houses of Bar, Kineancleugh, Carnell, Ochiltree, and Gadgirth, and in the town of Ayr. He went also to Dun the second time, during which he preached more openly than before. A majority of the gentlemen of Mearns entered at this season into a solemn bond, in which they renounced the Popish communion, and engaged to maintain and promote the pure preaching of the gospel. These covenants were necessary, as measures of assurance and precaution; for though

many of the nobility and gentry "received the word with all readiness of mind," the Protestants were still in circumstances of much peril from the vindictive feelings of the clergy, and the bigotted sentiments of some laics in authority.

His preaching at Ayr was reported to the Court, and formed the topic of conversation in the presence of the Queen Regent. Some having affirmed that the preacher was an Englishman, a prelate replied, "Nay, no Englishman; but it is Knox, that knave!" An application was made for his apprehension, which was discouraged by the Queen Regent; but he was summoned to appear before a convention of the clergy, in the church of Blackfriars in Edinburgh, on the fifteenth of May. Several gentlemen of distinction, among whom was the laird of Dun, resolving to stand by him, he determined to obey the summons.

But the pro

secution was dropped, upon some informality of the summons, as was pretended, when the ecclesiastics perceived such a considerable party appearing in his behalf. However, he went to Edinburgh on the day originally appointed, where he addressed a greater audience than ever he had done before; and even preached in the Bishop of Dunkeld's apartments, in the forenoon and afternoon, for ten days, no man forbidding him." About this time, the Earl Marischal, at the desire of the Earl of Glencairn, attended one of his evening exhortations, and was so much pleased with the discourse, that he joined with Glencairn, in urging the preacher to write a letter to the Queen Regent, which they hoped might induce her to hear the Protestant doctrine, or at least tend to confirm her in favourable sentiments towards its preachers. He complied with their wish, and Glencairn himself deli vered it to her majesty; but though it was composed with much care,

and filled with matter calculated to confirm the resolutions of one who was impressed with a conviction of the reigning evils in the church, or who, though not resolved in judgment as to the matters in controversy, was determined to preserve moderation between the contending parties; she merely glanced over it with a careless air, and gave it to the Archbishop of Glasgow, saying sarcastically, Please you, my Lord, to read a pasquil."* This reception of his letter occasioned him to publish it, with additions, in 1558, at Geneva, to which he was induced to return, by an invitation from the English congregation in that city. His wife and mother-inlaw resolved to attend him. He sent them before him to Dieppe, while he staid a little longer to bid farewell to his brethren in several places, and confirm them in the faith. Campbell of Kineancleugh conducted him to the Earl of Argyle, and he preached for some days in his house at Castle Campbell. In July, he quitted Scotland, and joining his wife and her mother at Dieppe, proceeded with them to Geneva.

No sooner did the clergy understand that he had departed, than they renewed the summons against him, which they had given up, when he was present to answer it; and, upon his non-appearance, passed sentence against him, adjudging his body to the flames, and his soul to damnation. They also caused his effigy to be burned at the cross of Edinburgh. Against this sentence he formed, and afterwards printed at Geneva, his " Appellation from the cruel and most unjust Sentence pronounced against him by the false Bishops and Clergy of Scotland; with his Supplication to the Nobility, Estates, and Commonalty of the said Realm."

* Historie of the Reformation, by Knox, p. 425.

THIS day, the anniversary of the death of my darling child, calls for much seriousness of mind, and deep humiliation before the righteous God who has smitten me. I did not appreciate as I ought, the blessing for a time vouchsafed to me; and need I, or ought I, to wonder that it has been removed? The judicious observations she made from day to day,-the spirituality of mind she evinced, the holy consistency which was woven as a thread throughout all her demeanour, the lively interest she took in the spread of divine truth, especially among our youth at home, and the heathen abroad,-the unwearied diligence she exhibited in perusing the sacred Scriptures, and in working for the Juvenile Sunday School Society;-all say to me this day, in a language I cannot but hear, Why did you not profit by this blessing more than you have done? Why did you not hold constant communion with her? Why did you not enter more into her motivesher feelings-her spiritual enjoyments? Why did you not check in yourself the rising evils which were so subdued in her? Why did you not, when you saw what God wrought, pray more for the Spirit's influence, that you might shine as brightly and live as usefully in your station, as she did in her's? Keenly do I feel the force of these questions; yet were I again in possession of this treasure, I have no reason to expect that matters would be otherwise than they are: for my heart is still the same;-perverse, rebellious, unfeeling, and unthankful. But this is impossible. The separation has taken place, which cuts off all hope of intercourse, until eternity bursts upon me with all its awful realities! O that I may, in the contemplation of it, be cheered by the hope of uniting with her, in JUNE 1826.

praising the Lord Jehovah, who sanctified her from her earliest days -kept her, indeed, unspotted from the world-upheld her under the heavy pressure of lengthened disease-gave to her mind a sweet placidity under acute pain, which was reflected upon her countenance -and caused her, in the hour when flesh and heart faint, to fear no evil, to be tortured with no unpleasant anticipation; but, as it were, with the eye of faith fully open, to behold the glory which awaited her; and with the true nature and way of obtaining which she was so intimately acquainted.

Her Bible, which now lies before me, proves the view she took of those delightful passages which set forth the Lord Jesus Christ as the Saviour of the lost, and the Redeemer of the guilty-as the Lord our righteousness. It bears unquestionable marks of her diligent perusal of it, and of the comprehensive view she took of its inestimable truths. Doctrines marked in one place-precepts in another--promises in another; all most striking, and all indicative of a mind imbued by the Holy Spirit.

My beloved child! I cannot but cherish the remembrance of thee. On earth thou wast all that a fond parent could desire. In death the angels wafted thy purified Spirit into Abraham's bosom; and now thou art and wilt for ever be with them, giving praise and glory to the Lamb. Dare I, or ought I to wish thee back again? Ono!" All is well". Thy will, O God, be done." May the parent now learn of the child, and seek a share of that blessed inheritance, which she through grace has obtained. May he follow her as she followed Christ. AMICUS HIBERNICUS.

Feb. 25, 1826.

2 E

"Thrice welcome death!

That after niany a painful bleeding step Conducts us home, and lands us safe On the long wish'd for shore. Prodigious

change!

Our bane turn'd to a blessing! Death disarm'd,

Loses its fellness quite. All thanks to him

Who scourg'd the venom out.”

BLAIR. FOR about three years after the return of her son, Betty H-— remained a pilgrim and a sojourner in this "wilderness of sin; and a considerable share of happiness shed its soothing influence amid the manifold infirmities of her declining age. But the pleasures of life are only momentary, and the soul whose hopes are fixed in the skies, and whose greatest happiness consists in perfect deliverance from the thraldom of sin, will be perpetually looking forward to the period of an emancipation with longing delight and anxious expectation. It was thus with Betty H-- Once, indeed, the world with all its trials had been her only portion; in that all her affections were engrossed; and the dread of separation from it had often filled her with alarm: but now she was made the subject of the regenerating influence of the Spirit of God; now all her dispositions and desires were elevated and sanctified ;--her only home was heaven; her only friend was God; her only happiness consisted in the enjoyment of his presence and the smiles of his reconciled countenance: she could therefore welcome the approach of death itself; and in the spirit of every genuine believer could exclaim,

You have, indeed, much cause for gratitude. God has been merciful to you in calling you to the knowledge of the truth after a whole life of rebellion against him.”

"Yes, sir, he has.—I hope I feel thankful; but my heart is very hard still. Oh sir, I am quite willing to die; for then I shall sin no more." "Is sin then so great an evil, that you hate it so ?"

"Evil, sir? it had like to have cost me my soul. Oh what a great sinner I have been: and because God sent me troubles, I murmured, and grumbled, and thought him very hard. Oh how much should I have had to answer for; but, blessed be his holy name, my sins are all forgiven. Yes, Jesus is my Saviour, and I shall soon see his face --see his face, sir, Oh how happy!"

"It will indeed be happy, Betty. Sin is the source of all our sorrows in this life; and to be delivered from its power and its curse is indeed the very chief of blessings."

"You are right, sir, it is, it is. I feel," said she, laying her hand