character of a mere popular preacher more than he did-and no one took a higher standard of parochial and daily labour)-just then it was that it pleased God in his inscrutable providence to suspend him in the midst of his usefulness. His frame, always feeble and delicate, gave way to his incessant labours--and the seeds of that fatal disease which has at length carried him off, then made their too evident appearance. I rejoice that I have preserved a most beautiful letter which I received from him at that interesting period: a letter which displays his mind and spirit-his glowing love and faith and hope-his ineffable peace, and his profound humility, far better than any language however eulogistic. It was dated from Brighton, November 7th, 1835, when he was on the eve of seeking the milder climate of Devonshire-for the winter. I give it here almost entire-I force the privacy of Christian friendship for the good and comfort of the Church of God.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,-I feel your very kind and affectionate letter much. I assure you I did not need you to remind me of your valued promise, for it has been often, and more especially of late, upon my mind. My state of health, however, is probably what would be called not one of immediate danger; that is, by God's blessing, upon the mild climate of Devonshire (we hope to go to Torquay next week) I may creep through the winter; but the disease in the lungs is considered by the medical men too far established to allow them to speak confidently of any lengthened period; the symptoms having now, without a single day's intermission, lasted since this time twelvemonth. I merely mention this because you desire to know exactly how I am,-and yet after all it does not tell you; it says how the body is, but thanks be to God, the body is not I. I can truly, and I trust gratefully say, that I never was better; that in the fullest enjoyment of Chelsea work, (and you know something of what that feeling means,) I never experienced such unbroken peace and uninterrupted comfort. I don't even want to be up and doing, which for me is wonderful, but I am content to be laid aside, and to be taught what I have been long teaching. "It was an often expressed desire of mine to die in the midst of my work, but I now feel glad that the choice was not left to me, and am truly thankful for the quiet season which I hope by God's mercy lies before me.

"I trust that both you and I, my very dear friend, have long known something of the value and of the strength of the promises, but even you can, I think, hardly tell what adamant I find them now; I think of death, and for a moment tremble, and then of Him in whom we are made more than conquerors, and really I am almost surprised to find how ENTIRELY the sting of death is drawn. I am afraid of presumption; and perhaps when I come into close quarters with the great enemy I shall find him more powerful than I feel him now: and yet I cannot think it! to be in Christ (oh, the blessed reality) is and must be the strong tower;' and seeking all in him, I am perfectly satisfied that I shall find all in Him, all both in time and eternity.

"But I have written more than my medical advisers allow me, and yet I could write sheets on my present feelings; however they are only what you have witnessed in hundreds, as I have myself, and often in the weakest men, women and children in our Redeemer's family, so entirely is it 'not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts.'

Pray for me, that my present feelings may be maintained, more I do not

ask on this side heaven.

"I have been so entirely interdicted from letter writing, as too exciting, that few things but the affectionate and urgent kindness of the oldest of my friends could, I believe, have drawn forth a reply.

“Believe me ever, my very dear friend, your's faithfully and affectionately, "HENRY BLUNT.

Such, my friends, was this good man's preparation for death eight years ago; during that chequered period of his life which has since elapsed, he has only at times been able partially to resume his labours.-But his Lord has showed that He had not forgotten His faithful servant; for then it was that a distinguished nobleman, unsought, and unasked, presented him with the rectory in which he has spent his declining years and drawn his last breath. He is now no more! And how did he die? How interesting to the Christian are the dying moments of a good man! That little cloud of fear which he seemed to anticipate in the nearer approach of death was entirely dissipated, and the words of my text are a perfect picture of my dear friend's last moments: -"He has entered into peace. They shall rest in their beds, each one walking in his uprightness." On Wednesday last, July 19th, he became suddenly worse; he laboured under great bodily sufferings then, which was not generally the case during his long illness; at the close of that day he exclaimed,-"Great bodily suffering, sometimes agony, yet all is peace, perfect peace, remember that I am enjoying it now, I know I shall throughout eternity; there is no cloud-no doubt on my mind; God is allsufficient:" and then he repeated with great fervour-"This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief."-"Yes," he added, "this is a faithful saying, or what should I do at this hour?" On Thursday morning early, he was so feeble that he could not speak, but he waved his hand in token of farewell to his friends; and drawing his breath heavily, twice, his spirit departed: so calm was his departure, that the hand which was beneath his head never moved! He fell asleep in Jesus! "He rests in his bed; his winding sheet is wrapped around him—the habiliments of death are upon him-the coffin has not yet closed over him-but I have heard that his manly countenance never looked more calm, more benevolent! He will soon sleep in the grave, and there will he remain until the last trumpet sounds, and then he shall leap forth from his prison-house, at the joyful summons of his Lord! His "spirit now walks in its uprightness;" sweet, high, and holy, is the intimacy he enjoys; he holds converse with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the dead who have died in the Lord!"

The accomplished editor of "The Church," Canada, Dr. Bethune, thus refers to the foregoing notice of one so valuable; of whose Christian career, although we never had the happiness to be personally acquainted with him, we have had such uniform testimony, that we feel the strongest assurance that both Mr. Close and Dr. Bethune have borne a just and instructive testimony to his example and character. [Mr. Blunt's portrait was given in this Magazine for October, 1841.]

"In a preceding column will be found a biographical sketch of a departed minister of Christ, which, we are sure, will greatly interest our readers,-of the familiar name of the Rev. HENRY BLUNT; one who, in his unblameable life and faithful discharge of pastoral duties, realized full well the portrait drawn by a sacred historian of the Apostle Barnabas," a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost, and of faith." And connected with this sketch, drawn by a friendly hand, but nevertheless as we believe accurately true, we have inserted an extract from one of his late works,-one which spoke the warm and uppermost feeling of his heart in sickness and in health, but which, compassed about with bodily infirmities as he was, and with the grave in view, we may believe him to have uttered as the counsels of one

whose earthly career was felt to be fast drawing to a close. May all we, the survivors, profit by the lesson thus solemnly and affectionately conveyed!

"Mr. Blunt has long been a favourite with the Christian public, as is shewn by the fact that his Lectures, characterized by a simple and affectionate earnestness rather than by any remarkable eloquence or depth of argument, have all gone through many editions in a very short space of time. We have been much gratified ourselves by the perusal of his several works as they came out; and if a very marked inequality is sometimes to be observed between them, and a force and terseness to pertain to his earlier productions which do not so positively characterize his later ones, we can account for it by his variable, and, latterly, declining health. His Lectures on the history of Jacob and St. Peter strike us as peculiarly beautiful; and his work on the Articles, which does not profess research for criticism, or more than a simple practical exposition of certain of the doctrinal tenets of the Church, present in many cases happy illustrations of leading points, and forcible exhortations to the every-day duties which flow from our profession as Christians. At the close of this treatise is an excellent discourse on the lawfulness and necessity of the union between Church and State, which was transferred to the columns of the Church about five years ago.

"Mr. Blunt may be considered to belong to the Bishop Beveridge school of Divinity,-a name that we are glad to cite, as evincing, what we believe is even now evinced by thousands of those whose religious opinions are thoughtlessly or uncharitably traduced, that the principles of "HighChurchmen," as they are termed, may be maintained in strict consistency with the belief and practice of evangelical truth. Mr. Blunt cautiously avoids the discussion of points difficult and mysterious in themselves, which have begotten differences and even fierce conflicts of opinion, and, in the expression of his own convictions, is always moderate and charitable. His works we conceive, on the whole, to be well adapted for the private Christian's library,-suited to the family rather than to the biblical student; but full of pious sentiments, earnestly and affectionately expressed, which cannot fail to please and edify all."

The following is the passage from Mr. Blunt's sermon to which reference is made:

We charge you, above all things, beware of the peace of the world; it is a dying, fading, transitory thing; nay, it is worse than this, it is a betraying, deluding, eternally destroying thing. We do not tell you that the world can give no peace; the lives, and even the deaths, of many of its most devoted followers, would contradict us; it can give a temporary repose, as even our Lord himself acknowledged, when he said, speaking of the " peace which he bequeaths his people, "Not as the world giveth, give I unto you." It does continually give it; it presents it as one of the most common, as well as the most noxious of its immunities; it holds the poisoned chalice to the lips of all its votaries, and if you have not drunk it, the grace of God has alone prevented you. This peace of the world, although but temporary, lasts often to the very verge of time, so that even inspiration itself has declared, that "the wicked have no bands in their death." Like the bird, of which travellers tell, that fans its victims with its pinions, until their sleep be sound, while it draws the lifeblood from their body, and gives them no waking moment, until their temporary slumbers are made perpetual by the cold hand of death; so does the world lull into slumber the poor deceived soul, and keep it thus, in an unbroken calm, even

to the solemn moment when it awakes in eternity, and its peace is for the first time broken, by the worm which shall never die, and the fires which never shall be quenched. May God, in his infinite mercy, preserve us from such a peace as this: so far from wishing it to be the portion of any among you, we most earnestly pray God that you may never be the objects of it, or, if you are for a time soothed, by the spirit of the world in which you live, into slumbers such as these, that you may be aroused, awakened, and for ever disenthralled from its dreadful fascinations.

When we say, "Peace be unto you," then, we address those only who have been the subjects of that justifying and sanctifying grace of which we have already spoken. The desire of our hearts for you this day, is "

peace." Peace in life, peace in death, peace throughout eternity; we believe that we can ask for you, from the treasury of God, no higher, richer, or more satisfying portion.

Peace in life, we pray may be yours; peace in all the increasingly difficult duties, with which, as we advance in years, life must abound. May every duty to which you are called, however difficult, or however harrassing, reflect, in passing, such peace upon your conscience, that you may find, as David found, that "IN KEEPING God's commandments there is great reward," and that, at the close of your course, you may be enabled to say with St. Paul, "Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world." Again, peace be yours,-peace in all the trials and sorrows, and disappointments of life, -that peace "with which a stranger intermeddleth not," which flows from the sense of God's pardoning love, of your union with Christ, of your promised and approaching felicity. A peace which the heaviest storms shall not disperse, nor the wildest tempests terrify. A peace which shall outlive all trials, all sorrows, all disappointments, which shall gain fresh strength from every visitation, and shall become more firm, and solid, and unchangeable, as all earthly props are taken from you, and all worldly comforts fail.

We

Peace in death, we pray may be yours-Dying grace for a dying hour. shall all greatly need it, for we shall have that to do which we have never done, and which our finite powers are but little calculated to achieve; to meet the enemy; to fight, to conquer, yea, to be more than conquerors through Him that loved us. Then will be seen, as Moses said, "Who are the Lord's, and who are holy;" (Numbers xvi. 5.) who have received the offers of a Saviour, and been clothed in the garments of salvation, and made meet to sit down at the marriage supper of the Lamb. Many of you, who have never before known peace, shall know it then; and some, perhaps, be permitted to feel such happiness at that solemn hour, as one who has departed to his rest, felt when he thus expressed himself on the eve of nature's dissolution: "Is this dying? would that it might last for ever!" For be assured, that however great your dread of the last enemy now may be, his terrors shall lose their power as he approaches, and you shall find, that as Satan is but a chained lion, so death is but a stingless serpent, to you who are "in Christ Jesus." For has He not revealed that He came to "Deliver them who, through fear of death, are all their lifetime subject to bondage?" (Heb. ii. 15.)

Lastly, Peace throughout eternity, we pray may be yours. Yes, beloved brethren, this is the consummation of our desires and prayers for all, and for each of you,-peace throughout eternity. Having enjoyed peace in the performance of all duties; in the endurance of all trials; in the resistance of all temptations: and having experienced its solace on the bed of sickness, and at the hour of death, may you enter upon that eternal and unbroken "rest which remaineth for the people of God;" that peace which no sin shall interrupt, no sorrow sully; that peace which has existed through all eternity, in the immediate presence of the Triune Jehovah, in the Church of the First-born, for which all church-membership on earth, is the preparation, and of which it is the faint and imperfect type. That will be indeed a glorious day, when prayer

shall be exchanged for praise; when discourses, dark and imperfect discourses, concerning God and his Christ, shall give place to the open vision of Him, to seeing, with our own eyes, "the King in his beauty;" to hearing, with our own ears, the blissful accents of his voice; when sacramental recollections of Him shall cease, and we shall sit down at His table, and be partakers of his throne; when these earthly temples, in which we have so often, and so long delighted to meet together for the worship of God, yea, when all temples shall have passed away, no longer needed; for we shall "see no temple there, for God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it."

May these holy services which we have been permitted to commence together, be perpetuated in the far more perfect and blessed services above. May many among you be then "our joy and crown of rejoicing ;" and may we be yours, when ministers and people shall meet in the presence of Him, whose name we bear, and whose love shall be the everlasting subject of our song; when that grace, which we now desire for you and for ourselves, shall be exchanged for glory, and that peace for ever perfected in the eternal mansions of our Father's house.

THE SCOTTISH EPISCOPAL SUCCESSION.

1. THE SPOTTISWOODE LINE OF SUCCESSION OF SCOTTISH BISHOPS.

THE Church in Scotland twice received the Episcopal succession from the Church of England, first in 1610, and again in 1661. After the tumultuous reformation of religion, the Roman Catholic Hierarchy became extinct, and consequently those persons nominated by James VI. to the archbishoprics and bishoprics, from 1572 to 1610, were merely nominal, though they were in possession of such of the revenues of their sees as had escaped the general plunder of the temporalities at the dissolution of the Roman Catholic hierarchy. It may be doubted whether it was possible that those persons, who, though undoubtedly layman, were styled bishops, could have been otherwise situated at the time. The succession had become extinct in a country which was still a separate independent kingdom under its own monarch; and Queen Elizabeth might have chosen, from various motives, to prevent the archbishops and bishops of the Church of England from holding any consecrations of Scottish prelates during her reign. But the union of the two crowns, by the accession of James VI. to the English throne, removed every obstacle; and, accordingly, in 1610, Archbishop Spottiswoode of St. Andrew's, Bishop Hamilton of Galloway, and Bishop Lamb of Brechin, were summoned to London by order of the king, and consecrated in the chapel of London House on the 21st of October that year, by Dr. George Abbot, Bishop of London, Dr. Lancelot Andrewes, Bishop of Ely; Dr. Richard Neale, Bishop of Rochester; and Dr. Henry Parry, Bishop of Worcester. Dr. James Montague, Bishop of Bath and Wells, was nominated as one of the consecrating prelates in the Royal Commission with the Bishops of London and Ely; but his Lordship could not attend, and his place was supplied by the Bishops of Rochester and Worcester.

The newly consecrated bishops returned to Scotland, and canonically conferred the episcopal function on their brethren who filled the other sees. This succession is generally designated the Spottiswoode Line, which became all but extinct after the troubles which terminated in the murder of Charles I., and the domination of Cromwell. Only one of the bishops of that suc

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