Smith was a real, and momentous, and total change. It extended to his whole deportment, to his daily walk, to the minutest circumstances of his life. The

mother whose heart he had nearly broken, found him the solace of her declining years. She departed this life in the arms of that son who had long been to her as dead, but was alive again, who had been to her as lost, but had been found. The lips, that opened only to utter the language of profanation, were opened to celebrate the praises of God. The house of prayer, which had never been entered, was now the delight and comfort of the true penitent. The Sabbath of the Lord, once habitually desecrated, was now esteemed honourable and hallowed; and a life of many years, devoted in a comparatively humble sphere to the service of Jehovah, and in the furtherance of the best interests of his fellow-creatures, has afforded the most satisfactory evidence, that a great and saving change was wrought in this poor sinner's heart. And such a change, I would remind the reader, is nothing less than life from the dead. It is not mere reformation. It is not mere improvement. It is not mere amelioration of character, a more correct view of the duties of life. It is real conversion. “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new."

PASSING THOUGHTS.

BY CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH.

NO. XII-THE NEEDLE.

IN my younger days I was very fond of a pretty poem entitled "A Prayer for indifference." I have since learned to pray for better things, and to look for something more in literary comp osition than touching thought and graceful expression: but there is a stanza in that well-known little piece that I often think on, with a different application indeed: "Nor peace nor ease the heart can know, That, like the needle true, Turns at the touch of joy or woe,

And turning, trembles too."

The property of the magnetic needle being to point due north, whatever unsettles its position produces a wavering tremulous motion, perhaps causing it to diverge greatly from its right aim, but never inducing it to fix, to rest, until it has recovered that position. How truly, how strikingly does this portray the state of a heart, which, having been touched by the magnet of Divine love, finds its point of attraction in Christ, and can, by the force of that attraction, without any visible aid, remain steady, as though bound by many cords, looking to him alone. Hold forth to such a believer any other refuge, any other hope, and it is as when you suddenly reverse a mariner's compass: the needle, surprised for an instant out of its right point, hurries round, eagerly seeking that from which it had been involuntarily diverted, and again settling with undeviating precision. So the heart, rightly influenced, starts away from any suggestion that would alienate it from its Lord, exclaiming, as it flies to him, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none on earth

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that I desire beside thee." In proportion, also, to the force and abruptness of the foreign and momentary impulse, is the jealous speed with which it is resisted and overcome. Has not the Christian felt his heart, as it were, spring back to Jesus, with somewhat of indignant velocity, when aught else has been set forth as a source of wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, or redemption to him ?

But there is another species of distress much more trying than this. We sometimes see the compass, from being held in an unsteady hand, communicating to the needle a constant trembling motion, so that, while pointing aright, it still does not rest. This uneasy appearance gave rise to the poetical comparison already alluded to, and illustrates a state of mind familiar to multitudes of God's children. Peace and ease they cannot be said to know, being kept continually doubting whether they do indeed look unto Jesus in the way that he would have them. Conscience bears them witness that they are looking to nothing else; that they neither seek nor wish for rest in any other quarter; and that the desire of their souls is to make him their chief joy; but, either through infirmity of faith or knowledge, or else from having their minds and spirits unconsciously affected by bodily ailment, or from other causes, foreign to their will, and beyond their control, they continue trembling, doubting, desponding. Not having a steady and clear view of Christ, they question their interest in him; these distressing doubts deaden and distract their prayers; such dead, distracted prayers further obscure their already embarrassed view; and so the heart, uncertain of its portion, and tempted to look more to its own wavering frame, than to Him who cannot waver, and substituting feeling for faith,

"Turns at the touch of joy or woe,

And turning, trembles too."

There is a spiritual joy, and a spiritual woe, alike inimical to spiritual peace and ease. Excitement, on the one hand, will, in religion as in other things, produce a state of collapse, the more overwhelming from the contrast connected with it. Overmuch sorrow will swallow up the comforts that God has provided for his mourning children, and be nothing the better for them. Extreme depression certainly wrongs the Lord, though it is, perhaps, a safer state than undue clation; and peace, rest, ease, are found only in such a fixed view of Christ, as presents him constantly to the soul as Him in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, out of whose fulness we have received whatever is ours, although it be but the knowledge of our emptiness, and may demand whatsoever we require, on the strength of that promise,

"My God shall supply all your need, according to the riches of his grace in Christ Jesus." It is no uncommon thing for the Christian to sit down and number over his gifts, until he forgets that he is still, in himself, wretched, and poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked; or else to stretch himself along in utter despondency, restraining prayer for more, because he feels that as yet he has received but little in comparison with the acquirements of others and his own desires. The heart may be "like the needle true" to its own suggestions and misgivings; but let it be true to Christ alone, and it shall know both peace and ease, in the consciousness that he is pledged, for time and eternity, to be its strength, its portion, its sufficiency, its ALL.

Biography.

THE LIFE OF JOHN JEWEL, BISHOP OF SALISBURY.

"IF (says one of Jewel's biographers, in the quaint style of his times) rare and admirable qualities of our ancestors do deserve a thankful acknowledgment of posterity, then most deservedly ought the singular natural endowments and supernatural graces of this reverend prelate to live and flourish in perpetual memory; by whom, as an especial means, the sincere religion we now profess received much vigour and strength after her long suppression in the time of superstition. For, although it hath been the singular felicity of the Church of England above some others, that in it the sacred order of bishops hath brought forth some famous martyrs, many most worthy doctors and pastors, as instruments to purge and refine the gold of the sanctuary, yet such a jewel in all respects, such nature with such grace, so heavenly learning in so heavenly a life, such eminent gifts in such eminent place, so fruitfully distilling their wholesome and sweetest influence to the refreshing and cherishing of the Church of God, have not been frequently found in these later times."

John Jewel was a native of Devonshire; he was descended of a good family, and was born May 24, 1522. He was placed in his youth at the grammarschool of Barnstaple, where was also educated Thomas Harding, afterwards professor at Louvain, and Jewel's great theological antagonist. His remarkable abilities were speedily apparent. To a natural quickness of parts he added a patient industry; and his forwardness was tempered with such simplicity and modesty, as easily to win the affections of his tutors. His early preceptor, Bowin, entertained an especial love for him; and his care was so gratefully acknowledged, that when Jewel became a bishop, and was possessed of influence, he was ever ready to exert it in behalf of all who bore the name of Bowin, for his old master's sake.

At the age of thirteen he was removed to Oxford, and placed first under the charge of Burrey, at Merton College, but soon after became a pupil of the celebrated Parkhurst, afterwards Bishop of Norwich. This excellent man, anxious to season his scholar's mind betimes with pure religion, often took occasion to discuss with Burrey (who was a papist) certain.controverted points in his presence; and intending to compare with him the two translations, then lately made, of the Scriptures into English by Coverdale and Tindal, gave him Tindal's, himself retaining the other. In this occupation Jewel was often observed to smile at the uncouthness of the language; and Parkhurst, astonished that at his age he should evince

so much discrimination, could not help exclaiming, "Surely Paul's Cross will one day ring of this boy." Jewel was afterwards transplanted to Corpus Christi College, of which house he became a fellow, and was there chosen, in preference to several of his seniors, to read the humanity lecture. His reputation in this was so great, that many from other colleges resorted Parkhurst, who, being delighted with his discourse, to hear him; and, among the rest, came his late tutor saluted him at the close of it with a Latin distich, implying that he who had formerly been his master would now be glad to be his scholar. Jewel was still only bachelor of arts; and his extreme youth enhanced in the University the fame which his talents and learning acquired him. Nor did the credit he had obtained induce him to relax in his exertions. He was a diligent student of the fathers, especially of St. Augustine; he had pupils under his care, whom he sedulously instructed: and he was watchful to exhibit that holiness of life which became his religious profession. So fully, indeed, did he follow "whatsoever things are lovely, and of good report," that Moren, the dean of his college, a strict Romanist, gave him this commendation, the more valuable as coming from an adversary: "I should love thee,Jewel (said he,) if thou wert not a Zuinglian. In thy faith I hold thee an heretic; but surely in thy life thou art an angel."

arts.

Thus was this accomplished young man growing in wisdom, and preparing for future usefulness, in dangerous times, during the reign of King Henry VIII, ere the close of which he had proceeded master of At length, in January 1547, King Edward VI. ascended the throne, and the light of divine truth burst brightly from the clouds which had more or less hitherto obscured it. Several eminent foreign reformers were invited to England; and among the rest, Peter Martyr, who was placed in the professorship of divinity at Oxford. His lectures and sermons Jewel diligently attended, and copied out; and soon became linked in the closest bonds of Christian friendship with him. And when, in 1549, Martyr held a solemn disputation before the king's commissioners, with Chedsey, Tresham, Morgan, and others, on tran substantiation and the real presence, Jewel acted as his notary. He now also began to be distinguished as a preacher. He appears to have been appointed to the cure of Sunningwell, near Abingdon; and hither, though occupied with his public lectures and his pri vate pupils, and though not in good health, he proceeded on foot at least once a fortnight. Occasionally, too, he preached in the University Church; and one of his sermons there delivered about this time, it is supposed on taking his bachelor of divinity's degree, is extant among his published works. His style was esteemed vigorous, pithy, and argumentative; his matter was solid, and well chosen; his eloquence was extolled as not effeminate and decked with mere glittering ornament, but as exhibiting the full and firm proportions of manly strength.

Hitherto Jewel's course had been amid the sunshine of prosperity; but now a dark and gloomy day arose. Queen Mary succeeded to the crown, July 1553; and the papists were not long in recovering their former power. The authorities of Corpus Christi College seem to have been among the foremost in signalising their zeal. A man of Jewel's known devotion to the reformed doctrines they were too happy to be rid of and therefore they expelled him from their body. This violent conduct, divorcing him from persons and places most dear to him, grieved him, as might be expected, very deeply. "I have," said he, in his parting address-"I have often heretofore, upon divers occasions, if not with so good success as I wished, yet with most ardent affection and desire of your good, spoken unto you out of this place; but now, through the iniquity of the times, things are brought to this pass, that I am to speak only this at the last, that I must

speak no more unto you. I have incurred, I see, some men's implacable hatred; but how deservedly, God knows; and let them look unto it. This I am sure of, they who would not have me stay here, if it were in their power would suffer me to live no where. I yield to the times; and if they take any delight in my misery, I hinder them not of it; and what Aristides prayed before he went into banishment, that I pray of Almighty God, that no man may once think of me when I am gone; and can they desire any more?" Then, no longer able to restrain himself, "Pardon me, good sirs," cried he, "if it do grieve me to leave the place where I have been brought up, where I have lived hitherto, where I have been in some place and reckoning. But why do I stick to kill my heart with one word? Alas! that I must speak it, as with grief I must, farewell ye studies, farewell this roof, farewell thou seat most eminent of learning, farewell the very pleasant sight of you, farewell young men, farewell ye fellows, farewell my brethren, dear as my eyes are to me, farewell all, farewell!" His auditors could answer him only with their tears. After a time, the president and others began to see in some measure the folly of their conduct, in ejecting so ignominiously one of the chief ornaments of their society; and indeed they were reproached for it even by men of their own party. For when Welchey, dean of the college, was boasting before Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, and Wright, archdeacon of Oxford, that their college alone of all the University had kept their Church treasury and ornaments entire, closely laid up in their vestry, "You have done so, indeed," said Wright; " but you have wilfully lost one ornament and great treasure, far more precious than any of them."

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Jewel, however, though expelled from his college, did not immediately quit the University; for his own peace of mind, it had been better if he had. He remained at Broadgate's Hall, where, attracted by his high reputation, many scholars again flocked round him. And the University itself conferred on him a singular honour, appointing him public orator. this capacity he had to write a congratulatory letter to Queen Mary on her coronation, which, it is said, was well and wisely tempered with expressions of sorrow for the death of King Edward, and of hopeful expectation in regard to the conduct of the new sovereign. Mary had, indeed, pledged herself that she would make no innovation or change in the religion of the kingdom; and Jewel, trusting to this promise, which was never kept, continued at Oxford until it became necessary for him to choose suddenly between subscription to the now prevalent faith and punishment. Alas! the lamentable weakness of the flesh! "Do you desire to see my hand,” he said, “and will you try how well I can write?" Then, taking the pen, unwillingly and hastily, he wrote his name. Yet this compliance failed in its purpose. The papists knew well enough that Jewel was insincere, and were resolved that one so distinguished, and such a devoted friend of the arch-heretic, Peter Martyr, should not escape. He had, therefore, to flee, as he best could, from Oxford; and if he had not, by the special providence of God, gone a wrong way to London, and thus been missed by his persecutors, he had infallibly been delivered into the hands of the pitiless Bonner. It was on a snowy winter's night that he went forth on foot, with a heavy heart, oppressed with shame for his past apostacy, and fear for his future safety. He had well nigh perished on the road; for he was found by Bishop Latimer's faithful servant, the excellent Augustine Bernher, lying on the ground, cold, and faint, and starved, just panting for life. By Bernher's care he was comforted and cherished, and was thus enabled to pass beyond

the seas.

But he could not be easy till he had openly confessed his sin; and therefore, soon after he came to Frankfort, he took an opportunity of preaching, and

in the end of his sermon he accused himself. "It was my abject and cowardly mind and faint heart," he cried, "that made my weak hand to commit this wickedness;" which, says one of his biographers, "when he had brought forth with a gale of sighs from the bottom of the anguish of his soul, and had made humble supplications for pardon, first to Almighty God, whom he had offended, and afterwards to his Church, which he had scandalised, no man was found in that great congregation who was not pricked with compunction, and wounded with compassion, or who embraced him not ever after that sermon, as a most dear brother, nay, as an angel of God. So far was this saint of God from accounting sophistry any part of the science of salvation, or justifying any equivocating shifts, which are daily hatched in the school

of antichrist."

Jewel did not stay long at Frankfort; but, on the pressing invitations of Peter Martyr, repaired to him at Strasburg. Here, as well as at Frankfort, were many of the English confessors, who had forsaken fortune, friends, and kindred, for the testimony of the Gospel of Jesus. To all of these Martyr acted as a kind pastor; but Jewel he entertained at his own table, and used his help in the publication of his commentary on Judges: and when he was sent for to Zurich, to succeed Pelican as Hebrew and divinity lecturer there, he took Jewel with him, who thus spent the greater part of his exile in Martyr's house. The English Protestants abroad were for some time maintained by the contributions of those who favoured the truth at home; but Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, getting notice of this, took means to stop it. The poor exiles were then for the most part dependent on the bounty of foreigners: and they were not forsaken in their distress; for the leading German and Swiss reformers took a lively interest in their welfare; and, at their instance, certain princes and states liberally supported them. But a worse evil than poverty soon beset them. There were among them some unquiet spirits, whose zeal without judgment raised up a controversy respecting the liturgy and rites of the reformed English Church. Deeply did the martyrs at home in their prisons lament these wretched dissensions; and earnestly, yet affectionately, did they censure the violence of Knox, and the crudeness of his objections to the service. Jewel, as became him, sought to appease, as much as possible, both by word of mouth and letters, the contentions among his brethren, which, it has been well said, "they brought not with them from England, but, like scattered seed, they received from the nature of the place and soil where they were dispersed."

In November 1558 Queen Mary died, and Elizabeth ascended the throne. The accession of this princess was a signal to the exiles to return; though the bishop who preached the late queen's funeral sermon inveighed vehemently against them, and said, that whoever should kill them, if they ventured to appear, would do a deed acceptable to God. The new sovereign and her counsellors thought it necessary to proceed with cautious deliberation in restoring the Protestant worship: and when Jewel, after a slow journey of fifty-one days from Zurich, arrived in London, he was amazed, he writes to Peter Martyr, to find that the pope's authority was not yet thrown off: masses were still said, and the bishops continued still insolent. Matters were, however, then beginning to mend, and were proceeding, Jewel adds, though something slower perhaps than could be wished, yet with wisdom, and firmness, and piety. A public disputation was resolved on between nine persons of each party, of whom himself was to be one- Scory, Cox, Whitehead, Sands, Grindal, Horn, Guest, and Ailmer, being the rest, and their opponents five bishops, the abbot of Westminster, with three other Romish divines. In another letter Jewel gives an account of this discussion. It was on three questions: 1. Whether it was

not against the word of God, and the custom of the ancient Church, to use a tongue unknown to the people in the common prayers and the administration of the sacrament? 2. Whether every church had not authority to appoint, change, and take away ceremonies and ecclesiastical rites, so the same were done to edification? 3. Whether it could be proved, by the word of God, that in the mass there was a propitiatory sacrifice for the dead and the living?-The first day's controversy was conducted, after much unworthy evasion and intemperate language on the Romish side, in such a way, that all the auditors, Jewel says, allowed the triumph to be with the Reformers; and on the next appointed day the bishops refused to dispute any longer, and hence produced a general impression that they felt their cause too weak to be defended, now that they were deprived of the weapons they had heretofore employed-the faggot and the stake.

In a letter written soon after to Bullinger, Jewel speaks most feelingly of the condition to which the nation had been reduced by the prevalence of popery. The Spaniards had corrupted public morals; the universities were hostile to the truth; those who had in the last reign deserted the Reformers were now their most bitter foes; in fact, it was scarcely credible how much mischief had been done in a little time. In this state of things, it was deemed advisable that a general visitation should be made of the kingdom, to root out profane superstition, and plant true religion. Jewel had a large province assigned him: he was to make a circuit of about 700 miles, through Berkshire, Gloucestershire, Somersetshire, Devonshire, Cornwall, Dorsetshire, and Wiltshire; and so it fell out, very fitly, we are told, "that he presented the first-born of these his labours in the ministry after his return, in Devonshire and parts adjacent; there first breaking the bread of life, where first he received the breath of life, and travailing, as it were, in childbirth there, till Christ were formed in them." This visitation, which lasted three months, took place in the autumn of 1559. When he had concluded it, he wrote to Martyr that he found the people were much better disposed to the Gospel than it was apprehended they could be, even in places where the greatest obstacles were expected: still, that superstition had made a most extraordinary progress in Queen Mary's short reign: almost as many impostures as formerly had been introduced respecting relics, so that the cathedral churches had become only dens of thieves.

Jewel's services in this visitation were duly appreciated. He had been, before he set out upon his circuit, nominated to the bishopric of Salisbury, and he was now to be consecrated to his see. It was not without reluctance that he accepted it. He felt the vast responsibility of the episcopal office; and the controversy about vestments, now reawakened in England, disturbed his mind. He appears to have thought some persons too pertinacious in insisting on their use; but he could by no means sympathise with the scruples of those, who, on account of these ridiculous trifles, as he terms them, refused to occupy the spheres of usefulness which the providence of God had opened to them. At length, in the beginning of the year 1560, "Peter Martyr's Jewel," as he was generally called, was consecrated Bishop of Salisbury. He often repeated, with a sense of the weight now laid upon him, the sentence of the Apostle,-" He who desireth a bishopric, desireth a work."

[To be concluded in the next Number.]

S.

A LETTER OF MR. ROBERT GLOVER To his Wife, Children, and whole Family, as his last Farewell to them for ever in this world.

THE mighty consolation of the Holy Spirit, from our most loving and merciful Father, for his dear Son's

sake Jesus Christ, continually dwell in your heart, my dear, and, to the end, most faithful and godly wife. His holy angels pitch their tents about you and your little ones, and suffer you not to be tempted above your strength; that so in the end we may dwell altogether with our loving and most merciful God and Father, and sing praises to his name, with his angels and archangels, for ever and ever. Amen.

I bid you all farewell in the Lord. Continue in prayer, and rejoice in hope-be patient in your affliction-comfort your heart always with the life to come. As for my departure, consider how oft I have been going from you, through my long sickness; and yet God, my most loving and merciful Father, has marvellously reserved me to this high promotion; for the which you ought to give hearty thanks, if you love his glory, and my eternal joy and felicity. And if you shew yourselves obedient children to your heavenly Father, he will love you, keep you, help you; so that you shall lack nothing expedient for soul or body; and, in the end, when his good will and pleasure is, you shall come to me, and our happiness together shall be perpetual, and we shall have the fulness of that joy that shall never be taken from you.

Ye little ones! love your mother; yield reverent obedience unto her in all godliness; be not unkind nor unthankful; pray for her preservation and continuance amongst you; pray that she may be an ensample unto you in all the ways of the Lord. And how you may behave yourselves towards God, your mother, and all other estates and degrees, let God's word be always your rule. Exercise yourselves therein night and day, joining always prayer therewith. God send you a good guide and good passage, if it be his will, out of this idolatrous and bloody realm! And as Christ committed his mother to John, so I commit you, in this world, to the angel of God, Augustine Bernher. If you will follow his advice, I trust you shall not decline from the fear of God. Be thankful for him, and cease not to pray for his preservation. And thus I commit all, as well servants as wife and children, to the merciful tuition of our most merciful God and Father, and to his dear Son our only Saviour Jesus Christ, with the Holy Ghost the Comforter: to him be all praise, now and for ever.

66

Amen.

ROBERT GLOVER.*

MAN'S OBJECTIONS TO RECEIVE THE
GOSPEL OF CHRIST:
A Sermon,

And

BY THE REV. DANIEL WILSON, M.A. Vicar of Islington.

JOHN, v. 40.