away with by Tyndale's account of his opinions and feelings. Pointz afterwards remembered that Philips's conversation with him, when they one day walked out together, had been of a suspicious character; that in fact, the traitor had been sounding him, to discover whether he was a likely man to be prevailed upon by money to betray his friend.

Finding that he was not, he went to Brussels, and there accused Tyndale before the authorities of being a Lutheran, and brought the Emperor's Attorney General and other officers with him to Antwerp. This proves that he was furnished, from some source or other, with considerable funds. Having arranged his plan with the officers, he went to Tyndale at Pointz's, and proposed to give him a dinner there. But Tyndale was engaged to dine out, and said, that Philips must go with him and be his guest, where he would be welcome. Before the house there was a long narrow entry, so that two could not go abreast. Philips, acting the polite gentleman, would on no account go first: so Tyndale, "being a man of no great stature, went before, and Philips, a tall comely person, followed;" and having placed two officers at the door of the entry, pointed him out to them with his finger as the person they were to take. His books and other things were seized, and he was sent to the Castle of Vilvoord, eighteen English miles from Antwerp. Great interest was made to save him the zeal of Pointz was unwearied, and even when imprisoned himself on a charge of heresy, his own danger seems to have occupied him less than that of his friend and pastor. But his exertions were in vain after an imprisonment of two years, Tyndale was tried as a heretic, in 1536, and condemned. Being brought to the place of execution, he was there tied to the stake, and then strangled by the hangman: after which, his body was consumed by fire. His last words, which he cried out with a fervent zeal and a loud voice, were, "Lord open the King of England's eyes!"

Of this good man's character we have this proof; whereever he went, he won the hearts of those to whom he became intimately known. Those who knew him well, loved him. Sir John Welch and his wife, Humphrey Monmouth, and Pointz were warmly attached to him: Sir Stephen Vaughan offended the King by praising him; and during his imprisonment he converted the keeper, his daughter, and other of the house hold. We are told that at Antwerp, devoted as he was to his studies,

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he reserved or hallowed to himself two days of the week, Monday and Saturday, which he named his days of pastime. On the Monday he visited all his poor countrymen, whom persecution had driven out of England; comforting and relieving them according to their necessities and good characters. On the Saturday he walked round Antwerp, seeking out every hole and corner where he suspected any poor person to dwell; and where he found any to be well occupied, but aged, or weak, or over-burdened with children, them also he plentifully relieved; for the sum which he received yearly from the English merchants was very considerable, and he bestowed the greater part of it upon the poor. On the other days he gave himself wholly to his book, except Sundays when he went to some merchant's chamber or other, and "read a portion of Scripture, which proceeded so fruitfully, sweetly and gently from him (much like to the writing of St. John the Evangelist) that it was a heavenly comfort and joy to his audience to hear him read the Scripture."

A letter of Tyndale's to his friend Frith, which Fox well calls a notable and worthy one, speaks loudly for the purity, and humbleness, and prudent zeal of the writer. He exhorts him to resist with all his power all doctrine that throws a mist on these two, to shadow and hide them—that is, on the law of God and the mercy of Christ. There liveth not (he says) in whom I have so good hope and trust, and in whom mine heart rejoiceth and my soul comforteth herself as in you; not the thousandth part so much for your learning, and what other gifts else you have, as that you will creep low by the ground, and walk in those things that the conscience may feel, and not in the imaginations of the brain; in fear, and not in boldnesss; in open necessary things, and not to pronounce or define of hid secrets, or things that neither help nor hinder, whether they be so or no; in unity, and not in seditious opinions.". "As lowliness of heart shall make you high with God, even so meekness of words shall make you sink into the hearts of men."

His great work, the translation of the New Testament, has served as a groundwork for those who have followed him.There are doubtless many faults to be found in it :.. no uninspired translator could avoid them: but he was able to sayand I believe him from my heart—“ that he never altered one syllable of God's word against his conscience."

A SABBATH IN EARLY SPRING.

THE groves are leafless, though the spring
Has winter's chains unbound,
And breezes soft about me play,

And gladness breathes around.

Christ's people from the neighbouring town

To praise their God invite.

And often has that very peal

The belted Knight subdued,

And bent his knees in humble prayer,

With a peaceful multitude.

And still do banners overhead

Hang fluttering in the air,

And helmets and emblazoned shields

Deeds of the past declare.

But hark!-a lower, humbler note

From yonder ivied walls,

That low and half-seen village Church,-†

Its flock together calls.

*From Windsor Castle, within the walls of which is St. George's

Chapel, the Chapel of the Knights of the Garter. † Upton Church.

One tinkling bell !—but when in prayer
The humble head is bowed,
Who heeds what walls he worships in,
Low Church, or Chapel proud?

For Chapel proud, or village Church-
The difference is not there:

It is the heart that can alone
Turn language into prayer.

REPENTANCE.

On the seashore, many of you must know, there are often rocks. Now suppose a man, walking among these rocks, and finding the stones painful to his feet, thinks he shall walk more easily and pleasantly on the smooth sand below. He quits the rocks, and goes down to the sands. The tide is out; the sea is calm; the waves are a long way off: there can be no danger: so he walks on. Presently the wind begins to rise. Still there can be no danger: it is only rounding that jutting cliff: there is plenty of time; and then he will be safe. Meanwhile the sea comes on, gradually, gradually, wave after wave, like so many horsemen in battle array, riding one after the other. Every moment they advance a step or two; and before the man has got to the jutting cliff, he sees them dashing against its feet. What is he to do? On one side of him is a steep and rugged ledge of rocks; on the other side the the sea, which the wind is lashing into a storm, is rushing towards him with all its might and fury. Would a man in such a plight think of losing another moment? Would he stop to consider whether he should not hurt his hands by laying hold of the sharp stones? Would he not strain every nerve to reach a place of safety before the waves could overtake him? If his slothfulness whispered to him, "it is of no use; the ledge is very steep; you may fall back when you have got half way; stay where you are; perhaps the wind may drop, or the waves may stop short; and so you will be safe here,"—if his slothfulness prompted such thoughts as these, would he listen to them? Would he not reply, "hard as the task may be, it must be tried, or I am a dead man. God will not work a miracle in my behalf; he will not change the course of the

tides, and put a new and strange bridle on the sea, to save me from the effects of my own laziness. I have still a few minutes left let me make the most of them, and I may be safe if they slip away, I must be drowned."-Now the sinner is just in the situation of the man I have been speaking of. On one side of him is the steep ledge of repentance; on the other side the fiery waves of the bottomless pit are every moment rolling on towards him. Could his eyes be opened, as the eyes of Elisha's servant were, he would see those fiery waves already beginning to surround him. Is this a situation for a man to stop in? Will any man in such a plight talk about the difficulty of repentance? Let passion cry out, It is hard to deny oneself;" faith must make answer, "It is harder to dwell amid everlasting burnings."

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There is one great difference however between the man walking on the seashore, and the sinner loitering on the edge of the fiery lake. The former will try to climb the rocks, because they offer him a chance of escaping; but if we try to climb the ledge of repentance, our escape is certain, provided we begin in time. Jesus Christ himself is standing at the top of the ledge, crying to us, Why will ye perish?" He stretches out his hands to us, to help us up: we have only to lay hold on them, and we are safe.

But then we must begin in time.-They who are old in sin, they whose souls have become stiff through years of wickedness, and have grown double, so to say, by always looking earthward-how can they make the efforts that are needed for such a task?--Of all hopeless miracles, the miracle of a deathbed repentance seems to me one of the most hopeless. Therefore repent in time: that is, repent now: for now is the accepted time: now is the day of salvation.

[From "Sermons to a Country Congregation" by Augustus William Hare, A. M. Late Fellow of New College, and Rector of Alton Barnes. Hatchard and Son, 1836.]

Take good heed, I say, in any case, of high climbing cogitations; of clambering up to heaven without this ladder, namely, the Lord Jesus Christ, as He is simply, plainly, and most excellently described in the word. Only do thou rely upon Him, and suffer not thyself to be drawn from Him, with thy wit, human sense, and reason: so shalt thou take a right hold of God. LUTHER.