Praise him beThou knowest Praise be to the

haps it ought. Give praise, therefore, to God in our stead. cause he has wrought so great a work of grace toward us. well how gentle and kind and altogether lovely she was. Lord Jesus Christ, who called her and chose her and adorned her with beauty. 0 that such a death were mine, and to all mine, or rather, that we were partakers of such a life! That is the one thing I pray for from God, the Father of all consolation and of all mercy." A short time after this, in a letter to Amsdorf, Magdalena's godfather, thanking him for a letter of condolence he had received from him, Luther says, “Yes, I loved her, not because she was mine own flesh, but because she was of so gentle and calm a temper, and attached to me with so much child-like affection. And now I rejoice that she lives with her heavenly Father in so sweet a slumber till that day. And as our time is drawing to an end, I wish for myself and mine, and for thee and thine, such a dying hour-death with so much faith and in such calmness; for they who fall asleep in the Lord neither see nor taste of death, and never know its anguish." When the body was laid in the coffin, he said, "O thou lovely 'Lena, how well is it with thee." "Ah, dear 'Lena, thou shalt rise again, and shine as a star, yea, as the sun itself." "I am happy in spirit, and yet, according to the flesh, I am very sorrowful. The wonder is, that knowing that she is in peace, and that it is well with her, I should nevertheless be so sorrowful." When the people came to carry her forth to the grave, and according to custom gave expression to their sympathy with him, he replied, "Ye ought rather to rejoice with me, that I have sent a saint to heaven, yea, a living saint. O that we had such a death. Such a death I would willingly die this hour." One that stood by then said, "Yes, it is well with her, yet one naturally clings to his own." Luther replied, "Flesh is flesh, and blood is blood. I am glad that she is now on the other side, for there is no sorrow there, such as that which they who are in the flesh endure." When they covered up the coffin with earth, he said, "There is a resurrection again of the body." When they returned from the funeral he said, "My daughter is now cared for both as to her soul and body. We are assured of life eternal, for God, who has promised it to us by and for the sake of his Son, cannot lie." When her mother wept and gave way to irrepressible grief, he said to her, "Dear Kate, consider, I entreat you, whether she has gone. It is surely well with her. Flesh and blood act according to their manner, but the spirit lives and is willing. Children dispute not; they believe whatever is told them. With children all things are simple; they die without sorrow and anguish, without disputing, without resisting death, without pain of body, as 'Lena died." But when his son John indulged in tender sorrow, and amid many tears wrote letters from Torgau expressing his deep grief, so as thereby to embitter his mother's heart, Luther admonished him with fatherly earnest

ness.

In this family picture there is nothing excessive, nothing artificial, no deification of the flesh, and nothing of false piety, but the divine life and the human heart stand in a right relation toward each other in all simplicity and truth. Faith holds the flesh, by means of the strength of the word of God, within due bounds; nature does not deny or conceal its weakness, for though hallowed by grace, it is not destroyed. Whoever reads this, and visits Luther's house at Wittenberg, let him, while thinking of the great reformer, call also to mind his daughter 'Lena, and her child-like words: "Yes, dear father, as God wills." ("Ja, Herzensvater, wie Gott will.")-Translated for the R. P. Magazine from Piper's " Evangelischer Kalender für 1861."

THE DISRUPTION OF 1662.

THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY AND ITS IMMEDIATE RESULTS.

(Concluded from p. 308.)

THE government of Charles II. was anxious to obtain some pretext for its contemplated severity towards the Nonconformists. According to the King's Breda Declaration, no one was to be "disquieted or called into question for differences in religious matters not disturbing the public peace of the kingdom;" every effort was therefore made to cause it to be believed that the Puritans were disturbers of the public peace, and consequently not entitled to any measure of toleration. It was found to be a very hard task to obtain any evidence of their disloyalty. Spies, in the pay of govern ment, were kept diligently employed in almost every county; communications were regularly sent in, full of the merest hearsays, and the most exaggerated reports of the collecting of arms, of secret seditious meetings, of widespread plots, and contemplated insurrections on the part of the whole body of the Puritans. Old republican officers were concocting rebellion; and Presbyterian ministers and gentlemen were going about as firebrands, inflaming the people against the government. Not content with reporting such vague rumours as these, informants busied themselves in encouraging discontent wherever they found any indication of it One reports that he had gone about among the disaffected in several counties, bad gained much love among them in a little time, and would help them forward in any plot, and then reveal it. But he was compelled to acknowledge that he could not get them to take any step that would expose them to the vengeance of the law, for these disaffected people would remain quiet, so long as they were let alone. There was no proof forthcoming of any plot to overthrow the government; and the charge of treason brought against the Presbyterians was a mere fiction. And yet, beyond question, there was a widespread and growing discontent. Two years had now elapsed, and people began to ask, what they had gained by the Restoration. They had a king, but it was becoming too evident that he was not less faithless than his unhappy father, that he had the same desire of despotic power; while the licentiousness and extravagance of his court went beyond all bounds, and disgusted the religious community. Oppressive taxes, imposed to maintain these revelries, made matters worse. The king's marriage to a popish princess, the secret encouragement given to popery, contrasted with the avowed opposition to Puritanism, aggravated the discontent. Parliament, which had long been the grand bulwark of the nation's liberties, fell rapidly in popular esteem, and instead of the joyous exultations which prevailed in 1660, there was rising a strong feeling of resistance to oppres sion and injustice, which bore its fruit in the Revolution of 1688.

During the interval that elapsed between the passing and the enforce ment of the Act, other matters more important and more urgent than plotting against government, engaged the attention of the godly Puritans throughout England; matters deeply affecting their own peace of conscience, their future prospects, and the interests of true religion in the land. As we have seen, the rumours which had spread through the country while the Act was under the consideration of parliament, had awakened deep anxiety among the Nonconformists, which was certainly not lessened when, in its amended form, it received the royal assent. Doubtless, they had been preparing themselves for the worst, but now that the law had passed, they have the only alternatives plainly before them. Their only choice was, either to conform to the rigid and specific conditions now to be imposed, and so retain their position in their several spheres, or if they refused to do this, they must resign their livings, break up the connection between

pastor and people, and cast themselves and their families upon the bounty of Providence. There was no way of evading the ugly alternative, no loophole for escape; the very wording of the Act rendered anything like putting a general meaning on specific requirements almost impossible. It seemed to have been framed so as to exclude as many as possible of the conscientious Puritans. When one, referring to this Act, expressed his regret that the door was too strait, the Bishop of London answered, that it was no pity at all, and if they had thought so many would have conformed they would have made it straiter. That a great majority of the worthiest ministers then in the church regarded it as too strait, subsequent events fully proved.

The faith and self-denial of these men were put to a severe test. They loved the work in which they were engaged, and would gladly have continued in it. They would not for mere whims throw up the opportunities of usefulness whichtheir position afforded them, nor without good reason rend the ties that bound them to their flocks. And when they did resolve to choose suffering for Christ rather than conform, it was not from passion, or the influence of party spirit, but from a tender regard to the claims of God and of conscience; not with a feeling of resentment because of disappointed expectations, but from a solemn conviction that this and no other was the path of duty. They did not come rashly to a decision, but painfully and prayerfully sought to have their way clear. They investigated the whole circumstances of the case, held much converse with others of both parties, and above all they diligently spread their case before God, and pleaded for divine guidance. Here are the devotional utterances by which one of them sought to brace himself up to the greatness of the crisis: "I am at thy footstool, I may not do evil that good may come; I may not do this great sin against my God and the dictates of my conscience. I therefore surrender myself, my soul, my ministry, my people, my place, my wife, my children, and whatsoever else is herein concerned, into thy hand, from whom I received them. Lord, have mercy upon me, and assist me for ever to keep faith and a good conscience." The solemn judgment of another is thus given: "I solemnly profess, in the presence of the great God, before whom I must shortly give an account of my words and actions, that my most impartial judgment, after all the light that I can get by reading, praying, thinking, and discoursing with about twenty judicious and solid divines of both persuasions, I look upon it as my duty not to conform, and whatever becomes of myself or family, as I cannot force my judgment, so I will not dare to force my conscience."

in

The majority of the Nonconformists were not extreme men, but even the most moderate of them were brought to a speedy decision by the publication of this Act of Uniformity. Chief among these was Richard Baxter, who closed his lectureship in London a week after the passing of the Act, for this, among other reasons, that all men might know that he meant not to conform. Of the same class was Joseph Alleine, of whom his wife thus writes:-"Before the Act of Uniformity came forth, my husband was very earnest, day and night, with God, that his way might be made plain to him, and that he might not desist from such advantages of saving souls with any scruple upon his spirit. He seemed so moderate, that both myself and others thought he would have conformed; he often saying, that he would not leave his work for small and dubious matters; but when he saw those clauses of assent and consent, and renouncing the covenant, he was fully satisfied." Another, conversing with a nobleman, being asked whether he would conform, gave this answer: "Such things were required and enjoined as he could not swallow, and he was necessitated to march off and sound a retreat." The nobleman replied, "I wish it had been otherwise, but they were resolved either to reproach you or undo you." This remark

probably refers to the bishops, and finds an explanation in what was said by the Bishop of London regarding the Presbyterians: "Now that we know their minds, we will make them all knaves if they conform." It was no trifling sacrifice which they were constrained to make, and all the more trying must it have been from the fear that it was but the beginning of their troubles. But faith nobly triumphed over mere feeling, and an enlightened judgment ruled the affections. When they asked what would become of their families when cast out of their livings? let one answer for the rest: "Though I had as many children as that hen has chickens" (pointing to one with a numerous brood), "I should not question that God will provide for them all." Similar is the answer of another, who said that he had in his wife and ten children, eleven reasons for conformity; added, that his family must live on the 6th of Matthew, "Take no thought

but

for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on."

The Act did not take effect till 24th August 1662, being in the Church calendar, St Bartholomew's day. And there was intentional severity in fixing that day rather than Michaelmas, as was proposed at first, because it would in most cases deprive the ejected minister of his year's tithes, which are due at the latter of these dates. The summer months rolled on, the fruits ripened, the vales were clothed with yellow corn, and the heart of the husbandman rejoiced. From his quiet rectory the Puritan pastor looked abroad on scenes so long familiar, and endeared to him by many tender associations both of joy and sorrow, and grieved that he must part from them. The pleasant parsonage must be resigned to another; the church, within which he has so often spoken the words of eternal life, will soon be closed against him; and the beloved flock whom he has so carefully tended will be scattered and fed with other than the bread of life. Very hard and trying it must have been to leave the scene of household joys and sorrows, and of pastoral labours, in which God had blessed them; but these noble confessors were prepared to do all this and more, should it be required at their hand, for the honour of Christ and the maintenance of his truth.

Time regards not the feelings of man, it stays not its course because of the interests that hang suspended on any given moment. Bartholomew's day approaches; it is a Sabbath, and many are the vacant pulpits and closed churches on that day throughout broad England. From that day no one who refused subscription as required by the Act, had any legal right to officiate within the pale of the Church of England. On the 17th of August, the greater part of the Nonconformist pastors had taken farewell of their flocks. It was the saddest Sabbath that has ever dawned on England, when many hundreds of her wisest, best, and most useful ministers were extruded from their charges, and forbidden, by a tyrannical government any longer to preach that gospel which they loved, and which it was their honour and delight to proclaim to their perishing fellow-men. The whole land might have been called "Bochim," for such wide-spread grief, and from such a cause, was without a parallel. Generations after, traditions lingered among the people of these parting scenes; of the crowded churches, the solemn stillness of the audience, the fervent appeals of the preacher, interrupted by the suppressed sobbing of the people, and the bitter tears of both. From the quiet rural village, from the crowded city, and from the busy port, these sad farewells, wrung from hearts strong in faith yet borne down by exceeding much sorrow, rising upwards, passed over the land like a solemn dirge, wailing through the stricken air. The persecutors cared not for the groans and tears their wicked devices produced; but He who bindeth up the broken in heart, heard the sighing of the distressed and put their tears into his bottle.

The whole hearing of the ejected ministers during this great crisis was

worthy of their noble cause, and the tone and spirit of their farewell discourses is deserving of all praise. At a time when it was to be expected that party feeling would run high, they gave way to no passionate excitement, indulged in no severe reflections on those from whom they were suffering grievous wrong, nor aimed to kindle or encourage any animosity against the government. Calmly they vindicated their own conduct in refusing to conform; but chiefly did they manifest concern for the spiritual welfare of their hearers. And the probability or certainty that this was the last opportunity they would enjoy of addressing them, gave additional warmth and urgency to their exhortations and appeals. Thus spoke the "silvertongued" Bates to his congregation in London, "I know you expect me to say something as to my Nonconformity; I shall only say thus much it is neither fancy, fashion, nor humour, that makes me not to comply, but merely for fear of offending God. And if, after the best means used for my illumination, as prayer to God, discourse, or study, I am not able to be satisfied concerning the lawfulness of what is required, if it be my unhappiness to be in error, surely men will have no reason to be angry with me in this world, and I hope God will pardon me in the next." The rector of AllHallows, who had been ejected in 1651, because he would not swear against the king, and was now to be ejected a second time, closes by a reference to old Jacob calling his children together and blessing them: "I cannot say you are my children, but I can say, in the strength of God, you are dearer to me than the children of my own bowels. I remember what poor Esau said, 'Hast thou but one blessing, my father? bless me, even me also, () my father!' O, beloved! I have a few blessings for you, and, for God's sake, take them as if they dropt from my lips when dying. "Tis very probable we shall never meet more until the day of judgment. Whatever others think, I am altogether against all irregular ways; I have (I bless the Lord) never had a hand in any change of government in all my life. I am for prayers, tears, quietness, submission, and meekness, and let God do his work, and that will be best done when he doth it." Another says: "There is a greater Judge than you, who must judge us all at the great day; and to this Judge we can appeal before angels and men; that is not this thing, or that thing, that puts us upon this dissent, but it is conscience towards God and fear of offending him." In others of these farewell discourses, we meet with earnest exhortations to the improvement and practice of the privileges which, in time past, the people had enjoyed: “God is calling you to see if you have not lost all the advantages he hath allowed you. 'Ye have been a long time learning.' He is saying to you, 'Let me now see what you can do or endure. If you have forgot all, Christ hath made a promise, the Spirit shall bring again to remembrance, when there is occasion for it.'" One quotation more: "I shall only add this (my friends), that though my lips be sealed, that I may not speak from God to you, yet I shall not cease to speak to God for you, as ever I have done. And, though I cannot have you in my eye, yet I shall lodge you in my heart; and, asking nothing of you but your prayers, shall hope to meet you daily at the throne of grace, and that, at least, we may enjoy one another in heaven." In such hightoned, spiritual addresses as these was the ministry of the Nonconformists, in connection with the Church of England, brought to a close. The sentiments uttered were worthy of the great cause for which they suffered, befitting the solemn circumstance in which they were placed, and quite in keeping with the whole Church and ministry of these God-fearing men.

It is time that we look for a little to the nature and requirements of the Act of Uniformity, the enforcement of which produced this grievous separation. It seems to have been purposely drawn up so as to reach as many as possible of the class known as the Puritans, and to exclude, not only those consistent Presbyterians and Independents who were opposed to Prelacy