THE HUGUENOTS. tutes from her registers, and coercion and treachery from her creed-when we see her tolerant in the countries where she lords it in ascendency, as she would fain have us think her in our own, where, thank God, she yet only struggles for the mastery-when she no longer contemplates haughty and insolent aggression -when lady tract-distributors are no longer incarcerated, and when Madiais are free-when Papal protection comes not in the form of grape-shot over Tahitian women-when metallic arguments are no longer threatened from French corvettes against King George of Tonga-when all these marvels come to pass (and when they do, there's hope of the millennium),—then, possibly, we may listen more willingly to the advances of Popery; but until then, it is the duty of us all-while careful to preserve our own charity, wanting neither gags, nor gibbets, nor penalties, nor prisons, discarding all the questionable modes in which | the earth has sometimes helped the woman, allowing the fullest liberty to hold and to dif❘ fuse opinion, robbing of no civil right, and asking for no penal bond-to take our stand, as did our brave and pious fathers, by the precious altars of our faith, and to cry in the homesteads of our youth, and in the temples of our God, "All kindness to our Romanist fellow-subjects, but a barred door to Popery, and NO PEACE WITH ROME." Horrible as was the massacre of St Bartholomew, the subsequent celebrations of it were yet more revolting. Rome and Madrid were intoxicated with joy. Pope Gregory and his cardinals went to church, amid the jubilee of citizens and the booming of cannon, to render God thanksgiving for the destruction of the Church's enemies. A medal was struck to commemorate the event to the faithful, and a picture of the massacre embellished the walls of the Vatican. Protestant Europe was struck with astonishment and horror. Germany began to hold the name of Frenchmen in abhorrence. Geneva appointed a day of fasting and prayer, which continues to this day. Knox, in the Scottish pulpit, denounced vengeance for the deed, with all the boldness of the Hebrew prophet; and when the French ambassador made his appearance at the court of Queen Elizabeth, she allowed him to pass without a word of recognition through files of courtiers and ladies clad in the deepest mourning. Shortly after these events, Charles IX. miserably died, consumed with agonies of remorse, and whether from corrosive sublimate, or from some new and strange malady, with blood oozing out of every pore of his body. Henry III., his brother and successor, was a strange medley of valour and effeminacy, of superstition and licentiousness. His youth of daring was followed by a voluptuous and feeble manhood. He was crafty, cowardly, and cruel. One of the chief actors in St Bartholomew's tragedy, he afterwards caused the assassina 273 tion of his confrère the Duke of Guise, who was poniarded in the royal presence-chamber. When revolt was ripe in his provinces, and treason imperilled his throne, he would break off a council assembled on gravest matters, that he might sigh over the shipwreck of a cargo of parrots, or deplore in secret the illness of some favourite ape. The Leaguers hated him, and preached openly regicide and rebellion. The Huguenots distrusted him, and Henry of Navarre routed his armies on the field of Coutras. Gifted with high talents, and of kingly presence, he shrank into the sha dow of a man-a thing of pomatums and essences- -the object of his people's hate and scorn. His reign was a continual succession of intrigue and conspiracy between all the parties in the realm; and in 1589, he fell by the knife of Jacques Clement, who was canonised by the Pope for the murder; and the Vicar of Christ, seated in full consistory at Rome, dared the blasphemous avowal, that the devotion of this assassin formed no unworthy comparison with the sacrifice of the blessed Redeemer. In Henry III. terminated the "bloody and deceitful race of Valois, "who did not live out half their days." Francis I. died unregretted; Henry II. was killed by the lance of Montgomery; Francis II. never came of age; Charles IX. expired in fearful torments; Henry III. was murdered by a Dominican friar; the Duke of Alençon fell a victim to intemperance; Francis and Henry, successive Dukes of Guise, fell beneath the daggers of assassins. The heads of the persecutors came not to the grave in peace. It is not without an intelligible and solemn purpose, that retribution should thus have dogged the heels of tyranny. Oh, strange and subtle affinity between crime and punishment! Lacratelle, in his "History of the Wars of Religion," has accumulated the proofs that nearly all the actors in the massacre of St Bartholomew suffered early and violent deaths. In the earlier persecutions of the Reformed, the clergy instigated the cutting out of the tongues of the victims, to stifle their utterances of dying heroism. See the sad example followed by the frantic populace against the clergy, two hundred and fifty years afterwards, in the Reign of Terror! In the time of the Cardinal of Lorraine, the Loire was choked with common victims; in the time of Carrier of Nantes, it ran with noble blood! Henry, Duke of Guise, kicked the corpse of Coligny on the day of St Bartholomew, with the exclamation, "Thou shalt spit no more venom." Sixteen years passed over, and the monarch of France, spurning the slain body of this very Duke of Guise, exclaimed, "Now at length I am a king." Charles IX., in the frenzy of cowardice, or in the contagion of slaughter, pointed an arquebus at the flying Huguenots; two hundred years after, Mirabeau brought from the dust of ages that same arquebus, and pointed it at the throne of make an impression upon the idolatry of the great Chinese empire?" "No, sir!" said Mr Morrison, with more than his usual earnestness, "I expect God will." Louis XVI. Beza spoke truly when he said, "The Church is an anvil upon which many a hammer has been broken." "Verily there is a God that judgeth in the earth," and though "the heathen have raged, and the kings of the earth taken counsel together against the Lord, Let the Chinese version of the Scripturesand against His anointed," drifted corpses on let the sixty natives raised up to preach Jesus the Red Sea shore, Babylon's monarch slain and teach from house to house-the scores of in his own palace, scattered vessels of a proud native youth educated in missionary schools Armada, wise men taken in their own crafti- -the waning of prejudices-the open ports ness, the downfall of a fierce oppressor, the and the triumphs of Christianity, in half a crash of a desolated throne, tiny things work-century, tell the result.-Rev. G. C. Wells. ing deliverance, the perfection of praise ordained from the lips of babes,-all these have proved that "He that sitteth in the heavens doth laugh, the Lord doth have them in derision." The bush in the wilderness has been often set on fire, flames have been kindled on it by countless torches, flaring in incendiary hands; but the torches have gone out in darkness, the incendiaries have perished miserably, and "The bush itself has mounted higher, WHAT COULD THEY DO? WHAT Could twelve men do, from the ordinary ranks of life, chiefly fishermen of Galilee, confessedly unlearned, without wealth or influential position, to establish Christianity for all time, upon a basis that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it? Let the lapse of eighteen centuries, with their thousands of temples and millions of worshippers, and the innumerable company who have mounted with a triumphant faith, and sing and shine in glory, furnish the answer. What could God do by one man the humble monk of Wittenberg, the son of a poor miner, reared in the midst of Papal superstitions-to turn back the darkness of a thousand years, and break the power of the Church of Rome? Let crumbling crowns and trembling Popes, the wane of Romanism and the spread of Protestantism throughout the world, give the answer. What could two students of Oxford College, with the blessing of God, do, to wake an expiring Church, throw off her redundant forms, and spread scriptural holiness over the land? Look at Methodism, with its unparalleled and giant growth of a hundred years, and you have the answer. What could Robert Morrison, the first Protestant missionary to China, the vastest empire of earth, embracing one-third of its entire population, do, to establish Christianity in that dominion? Let him speak for him self. He encountered in New York, when on his way, a man of the world, who did not disguise the light esteem in which he held his projected missionary enterprise. With a sort of sardonic grin he said: "And so, Mr Morrison, you really expect to DAILY WORK. IN the name of God advancing, Labour on with all thy might. Do the work which nearest lies; Standing still is dangerous ever, "Good and faithful man, well done!" A MEMORABLE CHARGE. THE following was the last charge of Mr J. Robinson of Leyden, to the members of his church, on the eve of their emigration to the New World, in A.D. 1620 :— "BRETHREN,-We are now quickly to part from one another, and whether I may ever live to see your faces on earth any more, the God of heaven only knows. But whether the Lord has appointed that or no, I charge you before God and His blessed angels, that you follow me no further than you have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. If God reveal anything to you by any other instrument of His, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry. For I am verily persuaded, the Lord has more truth yet to bring forth out of His holy Word. For my part, I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the Reformed Churches, who are come to a period in religion, and will go, at present, no further than the instruments of their reformation. The Lutherans cannot be drawn to go beyond what Luther saw. Whatever part of His will our God has revealed to Calvin, they will rather die than embrace it. And the Calvinists, you see, stick fast where they were left by that great man of God, who yet saw not all things. "This is a misery much to be lamented; for though they were burning and shining lights in their times, yet they penetrated not into the whole counsel of God, but were they now living, would be as willing to embrace further light, as that which they first received. PAGES FOR THE YOUNG. I beseech you, remember it is an article of your Church covenant, that you be ready to receive whatever truth shall be made known to you from the written Word of God. Remember that and every other article of your sacred covenant. But I must here, withal, exhort you to take heed what you receive as truth; examine it, consider it, and compare it with other Scriptures of truth, before you receive it. For it is not possible the Christian world should come so lately out of such thick antichristian darkness, and that perfection of knowledge should break forth at once." INHERENT AND IMPUTED RIGHTEOUSNESS. INHERENT righteousness sanctifies; imputed righteousness justifies. Inherent righteousness makes us shine before men; imputed righteousness makes us shine before God. Inherent righteousness pleases God; imputed righteousness appeases Him. Inherent righteousness discharges from hypocrisy; imputed righteousness from guilt. Inherent righteousness makes us pray; imputed righteousness makes our prayers prevail. Inherent righteousness is our sincerity; imputed righteousness our perfection. Inherent righteousness respects the law; imputed righteousness answers the law. Inherent righteousness is the evidence of our salvation; imputed righteousness the foundation of it. Inherent righteousness is our joy; imputed righteousness our glory. Inherent righteousness is to be loved; imputed righteousness is to be trusted. Inherent righteousness is imperfect; imputed righteousness perfect. Inherent righteousness is our qualification for heaven; imputed righteousness our title to it.-Mason's "Remains." MORTIFYING SIN. "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that hence forth we should not serve sin."-ROM. vi. 6. "FIVE persons," says Mr Brooks, “ were studying what was the best means to mortify sin. One said, to meditate on death; the second, to meditate on judgment; the third, to meditate on the joys of heaven; the fourth, to meditate on the torments of hell; the fifth, to meditate on the blood and sufferings of Jesus Christ-and certainly the last is the choicest and strongest motive of all. If ever we would cast off our despairing thoughts, we must dwell and muse much upon, and apply this precious blood to our own souls; so shall sorrow and mourning flee away."-Watchman and Reflector. Pages for the Young. THE INGENIOUS BOY. 275 "TELL us a story, father, this evening, do." Mary made this request in behalf of herself and her two brothers-Henry, who was twelve years old, and Andrew, who was only seven; her own age being about midway between theirs. "Well, what shall it be-a made-up story, or a true one?" 66 Oh, a true one, if you please; we like those the best." "But if I tell you a true story, it may not be very wonderful; not near so marvellous as something I could make up; perhaps you will not think it interesting." “Oh, I know we shall, we always do.” "Well, then, as you have chosen a true story, I will give you one that I know is all true. I was a schoolmaster once, and twenty years ago, this winter, I was teaching a large school. As I was passing around the schoolbeen newly cut in the desk, just before Wilroom one morning, I saw a notch that had liam C. I pointed to it and asked :— 'William, do you know who did that?' 'Yes, sir, I did it,' he very frankly replied. 'Did you not know that it was against the rules of the school to whittle the desks or the seats?' 'Yes, sir.' think the rule a good one?' 'What must be done then?' I suppose you must punish me, sir,' he said, looking very much troubled. "Now William was about ten years old, was one of my very best scholars, a very bright and generally obedient boy. He did not own rowed one at home, and the temptation to a pocket-knife, but had that morning bortry it on the new desk before him had proved too much for him. But his frankness in confessing his fault and condemning himself, added to his general good character, made me wish, if possible, to avoid punishing him. Yet how could I avoid it without appearing partial to William? The school-house was a new one, and I was anxious to leave it in good order at the end of the term. I turned the matter over a moment in my mind, and then said to him : 'William, I can't bear to think of punishing you, for you are one of my best boys. But what can I do? If I let you go unpunished, how can I enforce the rule? And if that rule is disregarded, we shall have a sorry-looking school-house when spring comes. 'I know it will be so, sir,' said he, looking more disconsolate. 'But is there no way that I can let you go and still save the desks?' 'I don't think there is, sir.' 'You may lay aside your books and think about it for a while, and see if you cannot contrive some way, and I also will see if I cannot find one.' "I turned away and engaged in other duties for some time, and then came back to him. 'Well, William, have you thought of any plan to save the necessity of that punishment?' 'No, sir, I cannot see how you can do anything else with me?' 'Well, I have devised a plan which possibly may succeed. The boys are now to take their recess; and if, while you are out with them, you can induce them to pledge their word and honour that they will not whittle the seats or desks if you are not punished, I can let you go.' "William seemed very little encouraged by this proposition. He evidently doubted whether the boys would give such a pledge. I stated the plan in presence of them all, and then gave them their recess. As I afterwards learned, William had not courage to ask anybody for the pledge, but one of the older boys gathered them all around him and made a speech in William's behalf. 'Boys,' said he, 'we don't any of us want to see Will whipped, and we can prevent it by just giving our word and honour that we won't whittle the schoolhouse. Now, what do we want to whittle the school-house for? I'd rather have a good smooth desk before me than one all cut up, and so had any of you. Besides, we ought to have some pride in keeping the house decent, as well as the master. In giving this pledge we only promise not to do what we ought not to do any way. If we don't give it, Will must be whipped, and then if we cut the desks we shall be whipped with him. For my part, I am for giving the pledge with all my heartwho votes aye?' He then put it to vote, and every one shouted 'Aye.' "William came in with the cloud gone from his face, and said that the boys had all given the pledge. Others confirmed his report, so I dismissed him to his seat, and I was as glad as he at the success of the plan." 66 But, father," interrupted Mary, " did the boys keep their promise?" 66 Yes, that they did, like real men of honour. I did not require to speak again on the subject during the whole winter, and in the spring you could not find on the desks, besides that one notch, anything worse than pin scratches." "I think," said Henry, "they obeyed the rule better than if you had whipped William for breaking it." they loved you more when they found out that you didn't want to whip them." "I think, also," said Henry, "they felt glad to have you trust them like men, as you did when you asked William to get from them a pledge on their honour." "Yes, I suppose all these things helped them to be obedient. You know that God helps men to obey His law by making them see, in the death of His Son, how important and holy the law is; how much He loves men, and how unwilling He is to punish them, since He gave His Son to die that they might not be punished; and then when they sincerely repent, He forgives them, and treats them as His own children." THE "GUEST'S" BIBLE QUESTIONS FOR THE YOUNG. JESUS. 1. Who " came to Jesus by night?" 2. Who brought his brother to Jesus? 3. What woman brought her two sons to Jesus? 4. With what complaint did John's disciples come to Him? 5. Who came to Him "as He was walking in the temple?" 6. Who came to Him to "catch Him in His words?" 7. Who came to Jesus when "He went up into a mountain ?" 8. And who was the first person that came to Him when He came down from the mountain? 9. What woman went to meet Jesus when she heard of His coming? 10. What did Jesus say when He " saw Nathanael coming to Him?" 11. What did the "wise men" do on coming into Jesus' presence? 12. In what manner did the shepherds come to Him on receiving the intelligence of His birth? 13. Whom did Jesus reprove for preventing children from coming to Him ? 14. Who " came and sat down with Him" when He was in Matthew's house? 15. Who "came behind Him, and touched the hem of His garment?" 16. For what purpose did the Pharisees and Sadducees come to Jesus? 17. In whose behalf did Jairus come to Him? 18. To whom did the Greeks say that they wished to see Jesus? 19. Who came to Jesus when He "entered into Capernaum?" 20. Whom does Jesus invite to come to Him? 21. And what does He promise to those who come to Him? 22. Will He refuse any one that comes to Him? Published by A, STRAHAN AND Co., 42 George Street, Edinburgh; and E, MARLBOROUGH AND CO., 4 Ave Maria Lane, London. CHRISTIAN &UEST. A FAMILY MAGAZINE FOR SUNDAY READING. REVISED BY THE REV. NORMAN M'LEOD, D.D., GLASGOW. WEEKLY NOS. ONE HALFPENNY.] [MONTHLY PARTS, THREEPENCE. "WHAT THY HAND FINDETH TO DO, DO IT WITH ALL THY MIGHT.” No man need be idle from "not finding | How much is lost by the crime of off-putting! We call this a "little sin," forsooth!we smile at it as if it were a petty infirmity; and yet if we review life, or even one year of life, and consider what we have lost to ourselves and others by not doing our given work at the given time,-by not writing, for instance, the letter given us to write to an absent or sick friend,-by not visiting an acquaintance in difficulty or distress,-by not giving that advice when it might have been given, by not engaging in this labour of love, or by neglecting that other opportunity of doing good,-oh, we shall no longer think the sin to be a trifling one which has been followed by such losses of good as we can reckon up to an "intolerable sum," when we recall but a few events of even one year! We had no want of work; our hands found abundance, but we did not do it at all; or if we did, certainly not "with all our might!" Our Lord gave the disciples a glorious work to do when He asked them to watch with Him in the garden during His last hours of sore agony: but they yielded to the weariness of the flesh. The precious opportunity was lost, -they awoke, but it was too late. "Sleep on now," said the Saviour, "and take your rest!" As if He had said:-"There was a work of sympathy and love you could have done for me, as well as one of watchfulness for yourselves against temptation; but you refused the work given you. Now, indeed, you awake, but it is too late; my hour is come. Behold, he who betrayeth me is at hand!" It is true that Jesus forgave them, but did they ever forgive themselves? Methinks they often mourned their sloth, "We could have shewn our love!-we could have watched with Him one hour!-we could have done all this, and more than this, but we slept! The hour passed, and never, never can it be recalled!" Readers, take warning,-"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might!" I can at this moment remember many grievous losses to myself, and maybe to others, from (what at the time appeared to be) the trifling sin of off-putting. But instead of recording those, let me mention one or two instances of an opposite character, which will illustrate the good of doing at once what is given us to do, and the evil that might have ensued from delay. I once attended an old man on his deathbed. He was very lonely, and very poor, and more than fourscore years of age. He was naturally very shy and timid, and suffering from many unbelieving doubts and fears. It was sad to see an old man so far from peace with his Father; yet he had been regular in his attendance upon ordinances, and led what is termed "a quiet, inoffensive life." I found him, however, very earnest, inquiring, and thoughtful; but very weak in his faith as to the good will of God towards him, and in the freeness of the gospel offers of pardon and grace to him. I felt much interested in his state of mind. One afternoon I was passing his door. I had seen him the day before. His illness seemed to be the lingering weak No. 24. |