theocracy headed by Knox was fine the grounds on which an authojust as distasteful to him as a ritative Protestant creed can be theocracy headed by Beaton or constructed," the Notes by which Hamilton. It has sometimes oc- the true Church is discerned from curred to me that the expedient, by the false,"-weak, that is to say, which the preachers were diverted on the logical and argumentative from the preparation of a scheme side, it rises into that impressive of civil and ecclesiastical polity eloquence, that intense emotional until Parliament had been dis- fervour and force of spiritual exsolved, was devised by Maitland. pression, of which Knox was a For Christianity, as a system of master, when it treats of the asdoctrine, Lethington, it is plain, surance of faith, of the immortality cared not at all. He was not of the soul, of the resurrection of an unbeliever. In Scotland, in the body. "In the general judgthe sixteenth century, the man ment there shall be given to every who had ventured to suggest man and woman resurrection of even tentatively, that God was the body. For the sea shall give a "bogle of the nursery," would up her dead, the earth these that have been stoned to death. But be therein enclosed; yea, the EterMaitland, who understood Knox's nal, our God, shall stretch out His foibles, was well aware that the hand on the dust, and the dead shall preparation of a Confession of arise incorruptible, and that in the Faith, of a compendious manual substance of the self-same flesh that of doctrinal theology, of a series of every man now beareth, to receive, speculative propositions on the re- according to their works, glory or lations between God and man, was punishment. For such as now dea temptation which the Reformers light in vanity, cruelty, filthiness, could not resist. It was a duty superstition, or idolatry, shall be which, on the slightest provocation, adjudged to the fire unquenchable, they would "gladly undertake." in which they shall be tormented There was no end of ticklish prac- for ever, as well in their own tical questions requiring the most bodies as in their souls, which now delicate handling; if, while these they give to serve the devil in all were in course of solution, the abomination. But such as conpreachers could be induced to enter tinue in well-doing to the end, the thorny theological labyrinth, boldly professing the Lord Jesus, might it not be well? Might it not we constantly believe that they be attended with advantage to all shall receive glory, honour, and imconcerned? That Maitland at- mortality, to reign forever in life tached no particular sanctity to everlasting with Christ Jesus, to the articles of belief which were whose glorified body all his elect then formulated is clear enough; shall be made like, when he shall he was ready to throw them over- appear again in judgment, and board without even a pretence of shall render up the kingdom to reluctance: if Elizabeth, he told God his Father, who then shall Cecil, would only specify those be, and ever shall remain, in all that she disliked (for a Calvinistic things, God blessed for ever." This Confession stank in her nostrils), is the poetry of theology: its he would have them recast without science may be contemptible and delay. Knox's Confession is a incredible; but the broad moral singular document,-weak and dis- truth that death is the wages of ingenuous when it attempts to de- sin has never been more forcibly expressed or intensely realised. narily sensitive,-resenting with more than papal authoritativeness the most innocent badinage directed against themselves or their office. But Maitland's shafts went home. He was not a jester only: the light play of his wit masked serious conviction and deliberate policy. Though the prophet who can interpret the obscure oracles of the Most High is not as a rule oppressed with humility, it cannot be said that Knox was vainer than his brethren. It was no doubt, however, rather mortifying to learn that the Secretary of State, instead of being impressed by the special and vehement application of the prophet Haggeus, had shrugged his shoulders, and treated the discourse with undisguised and unbecoming levity,-"We mon now forget ourselves, and bear the barrow to build the houses of God; " or to have been told to his face that the Book of Discipline, the scheme of Church government which had been so anxiously prepared, was a "devout imagination. It is clear that these speeches stung Knox to the quick; and the reason is plain. Had they come from another man, they would have meant little; coming from a keen and liberal thinker like Maitland, they were significant of much. They were the first notes of adverse criticism, 66 Even at this early period the friction between Knox and Maitland, between the inspired prophet of the Lord and the tolerant scholar of the renaissance, had declared itself. Maitland's irony had the same effect on Knox that the red flag of a matador has on a bull. It was so deft, so keen, so incisive, that it touched him before he was aware. He manifests a quite unusual air of helplessness while this agile foe dances round him,-pricking him before and behind, on this side and on that. He devotes a copious and entirely original comminatory service to Maitland;-the mocker (he is prophetically assured) will suffer for his mockage," here and hereafter, in this world and in the next. I have said that the Reformed preachers were extraordi the earliest intimation that the severe ecclesiastical regimen which the Reformers intended to prescribe would not be accepted without remonstrance, and that the affirmation of their claim to bind and to loose on earth and in heaven, as the Pope of Rome before them had bound and loosed, would not be readily granted. The papal jurisdiction had been abolished because its spiritual pretensions had become intolerable; it is amusing, if rather saddening, to reflect that the first business of the leaders of the infant society was to construct an elaborate form of-excommunication. 1 The provisional settlement which had been arrived at, the interim modus vivendi in politics and religion, could not possibly have been permanent. What the future had in store for Scotland, supposing that the French king had lived, we can only conjecture. But all was changed in a day by the death of the feeble Francis. The Reformers made merry' over the sufferings of Mary Stuart's husband, as they had made "merry" over the sufferings of Mary Stuart's mother. "Lo! the potent hand of God from above sends unto us a wonderful and most joyful deliverance; for unhappy Francis, husband to our sovereign, suddenly perisheth of a rotten ear that deaf ear that never would hear the truth of God." The exultation was premature; the merriment was shortlived. The death of Francis restored the daughter of James the Fifth to her own people; and for the next ten years the history of Scotland is the history of Mary Stuart. 1 These are the words of excommunication,-after the offender is cut off, secluded, and excommunicated from the body of Christ and the society of the church,-" And this his sin, by virtue of our ministry we bind, and pronounce the same to be bound in heaven and earth. we further give over into the hands and power of the devil the said A B to the destruction of his flesh; straitly charging all that profess the Lord Jesus, to repute and to hold him accursed, and unworthy of the familiar society of Christians; declaring unto all men that such as hereafter, before his repentance, shall haunt or familiarly accompany him, are partakers of his impiety, and subject to the like condemnation." A tolerably comprehensive "cursing" for a Church six months old. IN MAGA'S LIBRARY: THE OLD SALOON. A NUMBER of new books is always a pleasant sight. The smell of them, fresh from the press, is delightful to the nostrils, the red and blue of the fresh bindings an agreeable if short-lived gratification. We contemplate them, as they stand up in a row for judgment, with pleased anticipation. The fire burns bright: it is the end of the year. The Old Saloon lights up, appears and disappears, in the flicker and glory of the firelightthe cheerful blaze here throwing a ruddy gleam upon a piece of storied marble, there wavering like a smile upon the face of one of those pictured brethren on the walls. The wintry day is scarcely yet over. The grey light, the last gleam of the year, comes in, a little chill, over our heads. Here where we sit our predecessors have sat for three parts of a century, discoursing wit and wisdom such as no longer meets the common ear. Here Christopher North, in the long summer twilights, dipped his pen in the rainbow, and set before the readers of old Maga the glories of moor and mountain and flashing river; and here in the winter nights, with laughter as of the demigods, Homeric, inextinguishable, yet not unmixed with touches of pathos and higher strains of poetic insight, poured forth immortal musings, undying talk, that stream of brilliant conversation with the world, which loses something by being written, yet is perhaps the most captivating kind of communication that can pass between the man of genius and the ordinary race of men. The talk is undying, even though it is now in a book, and wants the force of a living voice; for the impression remains, which is greater than any mere fact of memory. His image stands there upon the wall, in the half shadow, half glow of the dancing firelight, with his head like Jove--one of the most splendid types of man that ever illustrated humanity, Christopher North, John Wilson, the first standard-bearer in old Maga's band; and look! behind him, fine and keen with sarcasm trembling on his thin-cut lips, the beautiful head of Lockhart; and further on, with a twinkle of kindly simplicity, with his plaid round him and his dog at his knees, that badly used but finely transformed Shepherd, the kind, vain, homely fellow, who had it in him, among all his vulgarities, to produce, once in a way, such a tender vision as that of Bonnie Kilmeny. How does one dare to lift the small pipe of a lesser voice in presence of these shades? And there is gentle Delta, the gentle poet and humourist, beloved of all; and Alison of the histories, with his capacious head and sagacious mien; and the cheerful good sense of old Henry Stephens of the 'Farm,' whose literary performances, if not very great in eloquence or poetic meaning, live and sell, my beloved brethren, as do neither yours nor mine, however much we may think of ourselves. The marble there, with the light upon it, is too fine for Aytoun, and throws a reflection of Greek splendour upon Bon Gaultier,' which is confusing, even when we think of him as the more serious minstrel of the Lays': but hap Let us proceed with our task in humility, fondly imagining a little succour from those noble shades. Were we to wait till midnight, the witching hour, perhaps in the wistful moment between one year and another, while yet the air awaits, in a thrill of expectation, the pity behind him hangs the image empire extends, from many a of his twin-brother in fun and manly pen, such as Maga, with poetry, the characteristic, humor- a sound and wholesome partiality ous, vigorous face of Theodore for her soldiers and sailors, has Martin, who is Bon Gaultier and always loved. She has her ladies Maga's henchman too. These are too, but, shall we own it? perour surroundings in the Old Saloon haps loves them less. The reader, at "45." Our friends of the however, must consider these words new Magazines, new and (compara- as a parenthesis, not intended in tively) old, good evening to you this connection. For it was of all! You are fine fellows, with the our fathers we had meant to gloss of novelty upon you. Maga speak, and not of their successors, offers you a friendly greeting on the as it is with memories of Wilson eve of the New Year. On her own and Lockhart and their brethren hearthstone, amid her household that this room, once an importgods, she has seen various changes, ant centre of their intellectual no doubt, in the three-quarters of a and social life, is most closely century; and kindly hailed your associated. fathers before you, long since engulfed and forgotten. Absit omen! rather may your youthful shadows grow until, in the course of the ages, they emulate her own. We have perhaps been led too far by the twilight fancies of this historic spot, and recall ourselves, as the lamps are lighted, with a certain shamefacedness and recollection of all we are not in the presence of our fathers. We are not formed like Jove and Christopher. Our dart is not one made out of the lightning-shaft, as was Lockhart's in his youth. To-day, however it may look to-morrow, is less than yesterday. Not, how ever, that Maga sings small, though her present representative may be modest. Certain faces we wot of, which by times come smiling here, ane no unmeet successors of the old demigods. Yonder in the corner is an Eastern landscape, strangely apart from anything in our Scottish home. It is a mountain village in the hallowed land of Palestine, from which the brilliant chronicler of "Piccadilly" has sent us many a page of wit and wisdom in recent days: and many more have come from other distant regions as far as British first tingle of the bells, who can tell if, descending from the dim walls, there might not gather about this familiar table, a New-Year party, shadowy yet splendid, with the lustre of the unseen in their sleepless eyes? Hush the atmosphere is keen with frost and starlight; the lionhill that watches over our northern city lies with his couched head indistinguishable, waiting: and the great Firth, giving him back in dark reflection, lies still, with her twinkling lights upon margin and isle: and the muffled mighty watchmen stand all about along the slopes of Braid and among the hollows of the Pentlands, waiting for the clash of the New-Year bells. Nearer to us, in the hum of the midnight streets, we fear the aspect of our fellow townsmen waiting for the same is not quite so poetic or decorous; and the Shepherd at least, should he come |