and isolated as an Indian hunter upon a trackless prairie. I now halted and took a survey of the premises, to discover, if possible, any person to enlighten me in my benighted wanderings amidst that dread wilderness-London! Looking about, I espied a solitary policeman perambulating listlessly about this unknown land, and to him I addressed a simple interrogation, for the purpose of enlightening myself, and to ascertain his acquirements in topography and martyrology. I soon found out that I might almost as well have questioned a New Zealander on both topics. The expositors and agents for the diffusion of useful knowledge, had not yet reached this poor fellow, and he was as obtuse upon the subject as a Chinese mandarin would be upon the corn-laws, or a Hottentot upon political economy.

Whilst I was thus completely baffled and confounded by this unlooked-for and perplexing dilemma, illumination was at hand. Another policeman joined us in the midst of this rare conflict of doubts and difficulties. He quickly enlightened us in the premises by affirming that we were at that moment standing upon the very spot which I had so ardently wished to identify. This latter individual-this member of the London police-proved to be quite an intelligent man, and seemed very familiar with this portion of his division, or beat. He was born in London, whilst his untutored coadjutor, it appeared, was a native of Lancashire, and had been but a short time in the city, which might, perhaps, excuse his want of knowledge of topography, but not his ignorance concerning the martyrs, as his better informed brother flatly told him.

A few days only had elapsed after my adventure at Smithfield, already recounted, when I was passing over the same spot in company with a friend, to whom I related the trivial incidents of that night. By way of compensating me for the want of any memorial of interest upon the spot, my friend proposed taking me to see an old gentleman who would supply this deficiency, as he possessed some very curious testimonials of the Martyrs. We accordingly set out for his residence.

The reader must now accompany me in imagination to a very retired and quiet spot in London. There are such places even in this life-heaving metropolis, where the clamour and din of the noisy world around seems shut out, and never intrudes-where the flowers and shrubbery of snug little enclosures entitle sundry nooks about this huge Babel, to the title of squares. In one of these pleasant retreats dwells an equally pleasant, and I may add, delightful old gentleman—a study and a picture for the painter and the philanthropist. Fancy a most benevolent, mild, and venerable looking patriarch, seated in his quiet study. Should any one wish to see "that peace of mind which passeth all understanding" displayed in the human countenance, let him look upon the calm features and silvery hair of that old man. The windows of his snug sanctum look out upon a pretty little garden, shut in somewhat by neighbouring houses and walls, which appear to be contemporary with the men who flourished during the times and contentions of the white and red roses. The vista, however, terminates with the Gothic towers of a venerable church. The sound of the chiming bells in that crumbling belfry, the old gentleman says he would not miss hearing for the world, as he affirms they brought good luck to him in his youthful days, as did Bow-bells to the famous Whittington, of cat and civic memory and notoriety. As a testimony, therefore, of his remembrance of them, he informed me that it was his intention to bequeath a certain sum of money to the bell-ringers as a token of his regard for this ancient custom, as well as the good they were the means of doing for him. But this is digressing.

The apartment to which I wish to conduct the reader is fitted up with the utmost art and beauty, and its contents of books, paintings, curiosities, and other objects of taste and virtú almost invaluable. It was no single hour's labour to examine such a mass of historical, antiquarian, and miscellaneous gatherings; many were presents and tokens of esteem from friends, but the bulk had cost their owner quite a fortune to accumulate, I must confine myself, however, to the Martyrological department, or mementos.

Amongst the books was a most antique looking tome. It was "Fox's Acts

and Monuments," otherwise called the "Book of Martyrs," a veritable copy once chained to the reading-desk of a parish church in London, by order of Queen Elizabeth. It was then a customary appendage, all over the land, to cathedral and hall. The old gentleman prides himself greatly upon the possession of this rare and valuable copy of the Martyrology, and is wont to attribute manifold evils to the removal of this ancient church tome, and maintains that looking into its pages was a sure antidote against heresy and schism.

Another curious relic was an inkstand, made from a piece of wood dug up from the spot where the martyrs were burnt at Smithfield. It was a modicum of the transverse joist to which the upright stake was formerly affixed, and having been imbedded in the earth, had thus lain there for many years, until an excavation upon the spot had brought it to light. Our venerable host assured me he liked to look upon these mementos, as they served to remind him of past history, and the glorious triumph of truth over bigotry and fiendish cruelty.

But perhaps the most attractive objects in the room were a number of beautiful and highly finished paintings. These were a series of pictures illustrative of some of the most striking scenes in the ecclesiastical history of England. Here was depicted in glowing colours, "THE CITATION OF WICKLIFFE AT ST. PAUL'S," "THE MARTYRS IN PRISON," and other kindred subjects. D.

(To be continued.)

* A picture of the same class, painted by J. K. Herbert, of London, has been engraved; but as the eye of the reader may not have chanced seeing it, the following lines from an English Journal, will convey the subject to his mind, and recall a very memorable incident in the lives of men-whom Strype calls "pillars of the Church" -to memory. The painting represents Latimer, Cranmer, Ridley, and Bradford, when confined in the Tower together, in November, 1553.

ODE TO THE MARTYRS IN PRISON.

Within the old Tower's* iron doors
No frowning jailer waits:
The painter's art hathi here unbarr'd
Its everlasting gates ;
And thou, O gazer, standest now
Where, in their prison cell,
As in some chamber of the past,
The ancient MARTYRS dwell.

Whose blest communions on the heart
Pour Mercy's holiest flood,
And symbolize in sacred forms

The "body" and the "blood! "+

And lo! while listen all absorbed,
Devotion in their eyes,

The mantle of immortal truth

Falls on them from the skies;
Conviction strengthens in the soul,
And lingering doubt departs,
And Popish superstitions fade
For ever from their hearts.

All in a moment-all alike

The true faith treasure now,
The kneeler's fervid face it fills,
It shines on Ridley's brow;
Cranmer hath closed the book, as though
Belief could claim no more,

And Bradford ponders o'er the truth
His pen had mark'd before!

Enough! as from a broken spell,
Each soul now heavenward springs;
And Inspiration bears it on
Upon its soaring wings!
Rapture hath rush'd upon the heart
And lighted up the eye,

And fill'd the MARTYRS' dungeon with
The brightness of the sky!

*The Tower of London.

+ Latimer is represented kneeling, and is supposed to have just read the passage,

CC

THEOLOGICAL AND ECCLESIASTICAL CABINET.

WHAT THE SENDING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT WORKETH IN US.

For our Saviour was born for us, was crucified and died for us, that by his death He might destroy ours. And because the cluster of the flesh was carried to the press of the Cross, and the sweet wine of Divinity began to flow when the pressure was made; the Holy Spirit was sent to prepare the vessels of our hearts, and to place new wine in new bottles: first, that our hearts might be purified, lest the infusion should be polluted; and secondly, that they might be secured, lest the infusion should be lost; purified from the joy of iniquity, secured against the joy of vanity. For that which is good cannot come in till that which is bad be gone out. The joy of iniquity pollutes, and the joy of vanity spills; the joy of iniquity stains the vessel, and the joy of vanity cracks it. Sin is loved, and there is the joy of iniquity; the transient is loved, and there is the joy of vanity. Put away, then, that which is evil, that thou mayest behold that which is good. Pour out the bitter that thou mayest be filled with the sweet. The Holy Spirit is joy and love. Cast out the spirit of the devil and the spirit of this world, that thou mayest receive the Spirit of God. The spirit of the devil worketh the joy of iniquity, and the spirit of the world, the joy of vanity; and these joys are evil, for the one hath sin, and the other the occasion of sin. But when the evil spirits are cast out, the Spirit of God will come, and will enter in the tabernacle of the heart, and will work an excellent joy and a holy love, whereby the love of the world and the love of sin are driven out. The love of the world allures and deceives; the love of sin pollutes and leads to death. The love of God lightens the mind, purifies the conscience, rejoices the soul, and reveals God.-Manual of St. Agustin.

THE CONNECTION OF THE DENIAL OF ST. PETER WITH THE HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ROME.

The answer of our Lord to St. Peter, that "all who take the sword shall perish with the sword," seems not only to imply the gentle Christian principle of forbearance, and a promise that meekness, to which the inheritance of the earth is given, shall in the long run be more powerful than the sword; but may also contain a prophetic bearing and reference to that Church which has attached to itself so much the name of St. Peter, which has allied itself with temporal power, and taken the sword in defence of what it considers the faith; and may it be added that GOD has indeed healed, and will heal, the wounds of those afflicted by it! Indeed, if there be any truth in the observations we have before made on the connection of what is said to St. Peter, or recorded of him, with the history of his Church (which, like St. Peter among Apostles, takes, whether rightly or not, the precedence among Churches) the parallel may be further drawn even in this manner. What we wonder at in St. Peter is, that after such a confession as he had made of our Lord's Divinity, and after asserting so earnestly his maintenance of right faith, he should be so forgetful of our Lord's Divine power and of this faith, as to use such human means in its support; without sufficiently relying on His own intrinsic and essential Divine strength, however oppressed. Now all this in St. Peter seems connected, as has been observed, if we may venture to say so, with some degree of presumption and putting of himself before his brother apostles: "Though all shall be offended yet will not I." And if this figure is still to hold in the Church of Rome, it may go on even to the denial of Him, if it has not already done so, in finding itself disappointed in using worldly arms of defence. Yet still, should this be the case, then of course this very history of their apostle would suggest a hope that they may be restored and may come forth strengthened and purified out of the fire. This is a better hope than that after this he should be "beating his fellow servants," and that his Lord should "cut him asunder" from his Church, which is suggested by the answer to St. Peter in St. Matt. xxiv. 51.-Rev. Isaac Williams.

SECTARIANISM THE HINDERER OF THE PROGRESS OF THE GOSPEL.

Little doubt but that at a very early period there were many serious persons among the Gentiles, who, feeling the insufficiency of philosophy, eagerly aspired after a better

1 Cor. x. 16, "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of CHRIST? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of CHRIST?" Cranmer has shut his book, and by the action of his hands, points to the irresistible proof contained in that verse, in which Ridley joins, while Bradford seems to have recorded it with his pen, wrapped in solemn thought.