grave sorrow, which was very touching, "Then, my child, I am now to learn for the first time that your principles are not mine-that the same truths are not common to us both? Is this possible? But, no!" he added, "I cannot understand all this! It falls upon me with a fearful shock. I cannot believe it." His glance wandered round the room; it settled on the portrait of Hooper. "Is it possible, that, with the portrait of that martyred saint daily before your eyes, and after all the instructions which I have endeavoured to impart to you, you can deny the truth, and prove faithless at such an hour as this?"

"My father," said Persis, ". you mistake me; indeed you do; and in your godly anxiety you have given way to a suspicion, nay, you have come to a conclusion very different from that which is really the case. For the truths which Hooper held, and which you hold-for the great and saving doctrines of the word of God, I would die at this moment; I feel that I could go cheerfully, God helping me, to the stake, and bear the dreadful fiery trial. And the words of the martyr are ever before me, which I learnt standing before that portrait, and looking up to that noble countenance when a little child, spelling them word by word, as I learnt to read them: SEE, BY THE WORD OF GOD, WHAT TRUTH IS ! AND IN THESE WOFUL AND WRETCHED DAYS, WHATSOEVER YOU HEAR TAUGHT, TRY IT BY THIS BOOK,

WHETHER IT BE TRUE OR FALSE.' But, she added gravely, "it is because I have endeavoured to try other points,-points which are not saving truths, and which now appear to me of slight importance in themselves, as involving no great or saving principle,-points on which good men, and godly men may differ, and have differed, and will always differ it is from this cause that I feel, I, your only child-I, who love you more than I love my

own life—may, without sin, differ from you; yes, and when I look at that portrait, I remember that Hooper, like yourself, 'scrupled the vestments, and misliked the ceremonies;' and rather than conform to the unjust and arbitrary authority of other men, as holy as himself-men who, like him, held the same great and saving doctrines, and died as he died, rather than deny them-I remember that Hooper was taken to prison, and languished there under a cruel oppression. But afterwards, he was brought to another mind, and regarded such points of discipline as questions of comparative indifference.”

"I am satisfied, my Persis," his look and his voice told her that he was so. “Yet, with me, this is not a mere question of vestments and ceremonies. I have never worn the surplice; but though I like it not, it would matter little to me in future, whether I read aloud the word of God in a black gown, or a white one. I am no Episcopalian, and yet gladly would I have conformed to the godly Armagh's scheme of reducing Episcopacy: and as for the ceremonies, you know, I have never scrupled to administer the eucharist to Mabel and to others, who preferred to receive it kneeling. I have been accustomed sometimes to use parts of the liturgy as the service of the church, and I heartily do agree with all the doctrinal articles of the Episcopal church. But there are other, and deeper, questions involved in this oppressive Act. I cannot, and I must not, consent to sin against my own conscience, and to conform to this cruel and fatal Act. Everything has been done to shut out all the Presbyterian clergymen ; and notwithstanding all the promises of conciliation which have been held out to us, not a single concession has been made. We had the king's own promise, his plain and well-attested declaration of liberty to tender consciences, but he has been overruled, and has yielded to the designs of men in

power, bent only on resentment and oppression, and on carrying-at whatever cost, their own illiberal and ruthless plans into execution.

"I have taken the oath of allegiance to my king, with my whole heart. I have been willing to sacrifice much for the peace of the church. I would do anything-yield every thing-up to the point where principle must be compromised. They would fain force us to pass that point, or rather they know that we will not pass it; that there we must stop, and, therefore, Persis, my mind is made up, my choice is decided. I cannot violate the peace of my own conscience; no, not to secure my ministry, though that is, or ought to be, dearer to me than my very life: and how dear it is, God only knoweth. I speak to you, my Persis, not now as my child, but as my friend; would you, as my friend, respect or love me, were I to sin against the light?" "My Father," said Persis, "I have never loved you, never felt so deep, so respectful an approval of your principles and your conduct as I do now. No other course do I see before you, than that which you have chosen ; and God will bless you and smile upon you, and cause His light to shine upon you in all the darkness of this world." They were both silent for a short space of time. Then he said, "Persis, I condemn no man: perhaps I have not that light which others have-least of all do I blame or condemn you, my sweet child. You have told me your mind, you have spoken the truth at the risk of my displeasure, or of my grief. I now feel, as I ought to have felt and known, how much it must have cost you to differ in any thing from me. But, I also love you and approve you from my heart for the confidence which you have given me. I asked you a plain question, and you have told me the plain truth. The God of truth will guide and bless us both; there is unity in the highest sense between us, that

is the one thing of real importance. Uniformity is a very unimportant point. It is this forcing of uniformity in things which involve no vital question, and to which I may not, with a clear conscience, submit, that I deplore. The Lord forbid that I should attempt to force it upon you, or do to you as those ill-advised and short-sighted men have done to me. I fear that they have, by this Act of Uniformity, introduced a sore into the church establishment of this country, which will prove the source of sad distractions and of countless evils; weakening where they might have strengthened, wounding where they might have healed. The church establishment of a nation should be as a mother to all the children of God in the land; opening her arms and receiving to her bosom all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity; loving all such as her children, and treating them as her children; patient as a patient mother, firm and yet gentle as a good and wise mother, sweetly soothing the irritations, and reconciling the differences of her children; tenderly supporting the weaker members of her family, and gravely, yet mildly, curbing the more rash and intractable spirits, yet repulsing none, and so fulfilling the part of a godly mother to all. If our rulers would only be satisfied with the description given of the church in the 19th article of the Episcopal church, I should be well content. 'The visible church is a congregation of faithful men, in the which the pure Word of God is preached, and the sacraments be duly administered according to Christ's ordinance in all those things that of necessity are requisite to the same.' And as to the power of the church to decree rights and ceremonies, though I should wish for as much liberty as good Archbishop Grindall desired; yet on those lesser points, as I have told you, my child, I could even cheerfully conform. But to this Act of Uniformity,

enforcing conformity with an iron hand, I must not, and I dare not submit-enforcing with an iron hand conformity as these proud rulers insist upon, I must not, and I dare not, submit. I grieve to think that our gracious king has thus allowed them to set aside his sacred word of promise."

CHAPTER VII.

THE EJECTED MINISTER.

GABRIEL CLARETON was in Holland, and the object which had called him there detained him. The news had reached him of the turn that public events were taking. He wrote to his brother anxiously, and he wrote as anxiously to their common friend, Mr. Harley. He knew that his brother's reply would be short, and would tell him little; but Mr. Harley would be sure write at length, would enter into details, and so he did. He felt for the anxiety of Gabriel : and still more deeply did he feel for the blow which had fallen so heavily upon that friend and brother in the ministry, whom, in spite of their little differences, was the dearest friend he had. He was also aware that Mr. Clareton would enter into few particulars, even to his own brother, and might rather add to his anxiety, than remove it, by any letter that he might write. "I strictly comply with your request," he replied. "I will give you every information in my power with respect to that event which has deprived the people of Chasefield of their faithful pastor, and has filled our hearts with grief. I shall never have such another neighbour and if I lose him altogether, I have lost the truest and the dearest friend I ever had. His advice and his example have been a blessing in