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account of the conversion of this pastor was carried to his father, a man above eighty years of age. I afterwards saw another pastor, who happened at the time to be at his house on a visit. It was truly affecting, he said, to see the old man quite absorbed in the subject, and for several days going about his house, clasping his hands, and joyfully exclaiming, “ Tout est accompli !” “ It is finished !”

It is now fifteen years since the event above narrated took place, and the pastor in question has never wavered in his views of divine truth, I have heard of him at different periods since that time, and learned, with much joy and satisfaction, that he has continued a faithful minister of Jesus Christ.

The sequel of this history is also very interesting. I received the following letter, dated September 21, 1825, from one of the most zealous and successful pastors in France, of whom I had never before heard. After a general introduction, he says, I address myself to you, to communicate the favourable circumstance in which the Lord has placed me in respect to the ministry of the gospel, which by his grace I exercise. I begin by telling you who I am, and the favours which the Lord has vouchsafed to me. I pursued my first theological studies at Lausanne, in Switzerland : I continued them at the faculty at Montauban, where I was ordained in 1812. The year after, I was appointed pastor at

and about the end of 1817, I became pastor at this place. Till the month of August, 1822, I was only a blind man leading those who were blind-much external zeal without knowledge-a vain noise of life (un vain bruit de vivre), and a profound wretchedness (misère profonde), which I did not feel! Such is what I

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possessed (Voila ce que je possedais). At the above period, I went to visit my former flock at - , where I saw, after nine years' separation, one of your spiritual children, my old fellow-student (the pastor above referred to). He became, in the band of God, the instrument of my deliverance. I then learned the great mystery of godliness, God manifest in the · flesh: and transported out of myself by the joy of my salvation, I returned to my church, where, since then, the Lord has given me grace to render testimony to him, and to advance a little, but very little, in the knowledge of him. In spite of the opposition which the preaching of the gospel and my imprudent zeal excited in the bosom of my flock; and in spite of my own unfaithfulness and coldness (mes infidelités et mes glaces), with which I am often affected, the word has nevertheless produced, and does produce every day its effects. A goodly number of parishioners confess the Saviour, whose infinite compassion they have experienced ; and, in general, all are more seriously attending to the gospel. I can give you but a faint idea of the field which the Lord. has opened before me: and of the progress which the gospel might make if that field were better cultivated. But I am alone with the Lord. All my colleagues of the department are indifferent (froids) about the one thing needful.'

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THESE were all consequences not very difficult to be foreseen by the deep and practised schemers by whom Bishop Cheney's movements were directed ; and they were not mistaken in these their calculations. The egg, that the Pope by his agent had thus deposited in the church, underwent a careful incubation through this and the following reigns, by a school of divines holding the same opinions, either in delusion or duplicity, of which Buckridge and Bancroft were probably the founders. There were promising symptoms of success in King James' time; but when his son and successor showered upon the reverend bevy of incubators the dazzling splendours of the sun of court patronage, full orbed and cloudless, their process was hastened by the genial warmth. The cockatrice burst forth, attained as in a-moment to giant dimensions, and erecting herself high above the sacred edifice where she had first seen the light, hissed to the four corners of the land. The effect of this full developement of the principles · of the Oxford Tracts is too well known already. Men rushed at once to the settlement of these questions, not in the strife of words, but of swords. Our country was once more bathed in the blood of her children; nor did the civil discord cease until the

Church of England lay prostrate in the dust, and the King of England on the scaffold.

The weapons of that warfare were but carnal; with such, these momentous questions can never be settled. The sword that had cropped the flower of our nobility, and spared neither the priest at the altar nor the crowned king, shivered like glass against the ‘scaly rind' of this accursed creature. She wound her dragon form into the crypt of some cathedral, or lay lurking on the dusty and neglected shelves of a college library, until the storm that herself raised was overpast.' Twice since that period has the foul thing crept from her retreat, and diffused over our island the pestilential and maddening vapour of her breath ; and on both occasions with the same effect. The Church has instantly been torn with fierce contentions, and the throne has tottered amid the shouts of civil discord and the clash of arms. Foiled in both attempts, through the great mercy of God, she retreated unburt from the assault of the same weapons, and found refuge in the same hiding-places.

And now, after long repose, when men had wellnigh forgotten her existence, she has glided forth once more, stealthily, and, while the watchman slept, into the sanctuary; there undisturbed, and until lately almost unnoticed, she lies coiled around the very altar, defiling the sacred elements with her forked tongue. Calm and unexcited as yet, she basks in the sunshine, displaying the grace and beauty of her mazy folds, and the refulgent glories of her speckled skin. But mark her well! Already her living colours flash and quiver, baleful fires are kindling in her eye, the black venom drops from her

jaws, and a noisome and deadly blight exhales with her breath. She is already irritated, and, unless the special providence of God interpose, she will assuredly rouse herself, as in the days of old; and thenIn good sooth, he has need of a steady eye, a firm heart, and a clean conscience, who at the present moment would calmly calculate and gaze unmoved upon the future.

Such was the rise of Puseyism. It did not originate with the representatives of an ancient Christian community at Rome, retaining still some vestiges of the truth, however imperfect; but with Rome, deep in the devices of one of those detestably wicked machinations whereby she has always endeavoured to propagate her false doctrines, and which brand her true title upon her forehead in characters so plain that he who runs may read it. It is the offspring, not of Rome as a Christian Church, but of Rome as very Antichrist.

So one the other side. If you bring me books of external evidence, moral or philosophical, to prove God's 'account of creation to be true, from the appearances of things to the senses, or from certain deductions of periods and events, I hold them to be as light as the others. My evidence of the truth of God's book is internal, in the book itself-my spirit has received it, and I believe God himself. All other evidence is trifling impertinence, from which my soul turns away.--Sabin.

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