Melancthon consents. The adiaphora is frequently referred to by our own reformers. The word is constantly on their lips, in their correspondence with each other and the foreign Reformers; and we are not aware of a single instance in which they ask for more than a candid construction of their motives, if they place the surplice, and the surplice only, amongst things indifferent. Nor, from these days forward till the Conference at Hampton Court, do we read of a single instance in which an attempt was made to introduce any other garment. The Brownists were the most intemperate opponents the Church of England ever had. They reviled the clergy for wearing a Popish dress-that was, a surplice-a college hood, and the cap, and the bishops a silk apron. It is clear that the rubric of King Edward had long since been repealed, or at least, as Wheatly says, had become obsolete. In the conference of 1641, to which Lord Ebury's suggestions owe their existence, it is spoken of as unlawful, having been repealed by Parliament. These are the words: amongst other "innovations in discipline" note the following:-" By pretending for their innovations the injunctions and advertisements of Queen Elizabeth, which are not in force, but by way of commentary and imposition, and by putting to the Liturgy printed secundo, tertio Edwardi Sexti, which the Parliament hath reformed and laid aside."

3. Perhaps it is unnecessary to pursue the matter further. If our brethren of the High Church party think it desirable to sing or say the lessons, we suppose they are at liberty to do so, though we think the rubric had reference only to cathedral churches. The only ground on which we ever heard the practice defended is that, read in the natural voice, the lessons would be heard only as a mumble. We may add, that in the early days of the Reformation, scores of the old clergy who had come over from Popery could say or sing, but could not read impressively. There is nothing in which our clergy have improved so visibly during the last generation, as in their reading. Still, we would rather hear a lesson said or sung, than read in a drawl, or whined out in a monotone.

On the whole, we think the reader must feel that Lord Ebury seeks no victory. He would leave all the doctrines of the Church precisely where he finds them. This was the intention of the great and good men of 1641. The difference lies here— that, while many are grieved at being obliged to use expressions which, to their view, import more than they can with a good conscience subscribe to, others are still left to place their own interpretation upon the passages freed from ambiguity. It is on these grounds that we express our deep regret that a revision so moderate is not even to be taken into consideration.

However, we believe that the matter will not rest here. Indeed, it cannot rest. The pressure from without will, we fear, be brought to bear upon it ere long; "and if not," a leader in the movement writes to us, "we are by no means discouraged, and mean to renew our exertions, with the prospect of additional support in both Houses of Parliament."

THE LIFE OF COUNT ZINZENDORFF.

The Banished Count; or, the Life of Nicholas Louis, Count Zinzendorff. From the French of M. Felix Bovet. By the Rev. John Gill. London: James Nisbet & Co. 1865.

FOUR years ago, we offered some remarks on the Life of Zinzendorff, as related by M. Bovet, then just published. It is now translated by the Rev. John Gill, and we seize the opportunity of returning to the subject, since there are many points in Zinzendorff's character which have not been noticed, and especially the influence he exercised in England, his connection with the English Methodists, and the effect of his intercourse, and that of Peter Böhler the mystic, upon the Wesleys.

In the present time, when the religious atmosphere is beclouded with the vapours of speculation and the mists of atheism, it is pleasant to recall brighter scenes; to contemplate the light which a pure-minded and large-hearted Christian nobleman reflected on Europe, more than a hundred years ago; and that too at a time when Christianity was subject to as many pernicious influences as at present,-when a feeble theology was taking the place of religion, and a so-called orthodoxy was substituted for saving faith.

When Nicholas Louis Count Zinzendorff was born, the life and strength of the Reformation upon the Continent was fast dying out; in fact, it was being bled to death by party spirit and theological disputes, the various schools of Protestant divines regarding each other with suspicion, so that each party was daily becoming more enfeebled. What each wished to do, was to systematize and define every Christian doctrine, and then secure the assent of the majority of Protestants to their own definitions, and thus form one universal Protestant Church. Had any one of them succeeded, the result would have been, that the right of private judgment would have been greatly curtailed, and all Protestants who did not become members of the dominant community would in time have been regarded as heretics. The course they wished to pursue bore a strong

resemblance to that which Rome does now pursue on the same matter, although the various creeds were then almost as much opposed to each other as Protestantism and Popery are now.

So it happened that, at the latter part of the seventeenth and the early part of the eighteenth century, Protestantism was split up into three schools; namely, the Pietists, whose chief seat was at Halle, the Lutherans at Wittemberg, and the Reformed in Holland. Between them they managed to keep up such a contest, that simple and unlearned men became bewildered; the notes of peace and good-will were drowned by the discordant voices clamouring for orthodoxy and denouncing heresy. But Count Zinzendorff was of a class not often met with; he was not only sincere and devoted, but of a broad mind and a comprehensive intellect, and was free from any selfish aim.

No one can read his biography without feeling convinced that his one object in life was to extend the knowledge of Christ, and to walk in close fellowship with Him. He wished to bind all true Christians, of whatever denomination and whatever country, in closer bonds of unity and brotherly love; with this object before him, he adhered steadfastly to the main and generally accepted doctrines of the Gospel, and carefully avoided many of the minor and more disputed points, leaving these to the interpretation of personal and individual conviction. The one thing he desired, and he often repeated it himself, was to find out the true friends of the Saviour in every Church, and to unite them in the bonds of spiritual affection, by raising them above all those divisions which spring from differences in doctrine and form.

We cannot hold up Count Zinzendorff as a faultless man; he was naturally proud, hasty, and impulsive, and had too, when a youth, a very good idea of his own abilities. We all know, that however sincere a Christian a man may be, his natural disposition will at unguarded moments show itself; so it was with him. But he was a tolerant and wise man, and an ardent and faithful follower of Christ: of this no better proof can be given than the history of his life, and his own description of himself. Upon one occasion he says:

"I have had the happiness of knowing the Saviour by experience from my youngest years. It was at Hennersdorf, when I was a child, that I learnt to love Him. I heard Him incessantly speaking to my heart, and I saw Him with the eyes of faith. I was told that my Creator had become man, and this deeply impressed me. I said to myself, that if no one else in the world cared for Him, I would love Him. I wished to live and to die with Him. In this way I have known the Saviour for many years; and I have carried on a friendship with Him, quite in a childish way, sometimes talking with Him for whole hours, as we talk with a friend, going in and out of the room

quite lost in my meditations. In my conversation with the Saviour, 1 felt happy and grateful for the goodness He had shown to me in becoming man. But I did not yet understand the sufficiency of His sufferings and death. The wretchedness and weakness of my nature were not fully revealed to me; I wanted to do something myself towards my salvation. But at length, one day, I was so deeply affected at all that my Creator had suffered for me, that I shed floods of tears, and I felt myself drawn more closely and tenderly than ever. I spoke to Him when I was alone, and I firmly believed that He was near to me, and used to say, 'He is God, and will perfectly understand me, even when I cannot explain myself. He knows what I want to tell Him.' I have enjoyed this close personal intercourse with Jesus for fifty years, and I feel the happiness of it more and more every day I live."

Young as he was, he had to fight many a battle with doubt; but he came off a conqueror :—

"I was in my eighth year," he says, "when one evening a hymn, that my grandmother had sung before she retired to rest, threw me into such a train of thought, and then into such a deep speculation, that I could not sleep all night. The most refined subtleties of Atheism unfolded themselves in my soul; and they so completely mastered me for the time, that all the sceptical arguments I have met with since then seem powerless in comparison, and fail to make any impression upon me. But my heart clung to Jesus, and I often thought that, even if it were possible that there should be another God besides my Saviour, I would rather go to perdition with Jesus than be in heaven with any one else.

"The infidel objections which I have encountered in later years have done me no harm, beyond annoying me and keeping me awake; they have never touched my heart. The Son of God is my Saviour. I am as sure of this as I am of my five fingers. I had loved Him for so many years, I had so often called on His name, I had had so many experiences sometimes sweet and sometimes bitter-so many mercies, so many chastisements, and so many answers to prayer, that I could not forsake Him now. What I believed was dear to me, though what I thought was hateful; and I firmly resolved to use my reason in human things, and to cultivate it as much as possible, but in spiritual things to hold simply to the truth that my heart had seized, making all other truths rest upon it, and at once rejecting whatever I could not deduce from it. It was thus that God was pleased to create within me the determination not to waste my life on vain and empty speculations, but to concern myself with things that edify, and to seek such close communion with Him as would make all my thoughts of Him sweet and happy, leaving the deeper knowledge of these mysteries to the time when I should be riper for it."

With this description of his inward life and feelings, we will give a slight sketch of the man himself, of how he lived and what he did. He was the offspring of a pious ancestry of high rank and a good pedigree; his grandfather, on his father's

side, had suffered exile, and the loss of all his estates, in Austria rather than deviate from his faith. His father was an upright and conscientious Christian; while his mother, who was equally pious, is said to have been unusually well-educated and accomplished. She spent a good deal of her time in composing hymns and religious poetry. This latter gift Count Zinzendorff possessed in a remarkable degree. He would frequently, after expounding the Scriptures, sing an extemporaneous hymn, composing it as he sang. Many of these hymns, we are told, were taken down at the time, and afterwards published, and had a large circulation amongst the Moravians. While to maintain his own religious convictions at whatever sacrifice, was equally a strong feature in his character. This feeling was no doubt fostered by the frequent accounts which he must have heard in his infancy of the sufferings of his forefathers on behalf of their faith; and in after life he himself had more than once to undergo the hardships of exile from the same cause.

Zinzendorff lost his father, George Louis, who was Count of Zinzendorff and several other places, before he was two months old. He was the only child, and his mother was soon afterwards married again. Some of the incidents recorded of his youthful faith and love are very touching. Before he was eight years old, for instance, he would frequently write letters to his Unseen Friend, as he termed his Saviour; and, as the hoarse winds blew and rattled against the antique casements of the old baronial castle in Lusatia, would commit them to the tempest, not the least doubting, in his childish simplicity, that they would be swiftly wafted to heaven. At other times he would wander about alone for hours, conversing, he said, with his Invisible Friend, whose near presence he felt sensible of. The thought of all that his Saviour had done and suffered for him was often more than his young heart could contain. On these occasions he would seek relief by pouring into the ear of the first listener he could meet with stories of the boundless love of Christ. This subject was ever uppermost in his mind, and in a kind and affectionate way he spoke of it on every opportunity until the day of his death. His whole life presents a beautiful picture of loving trust and simplicity. Thus time passed on till he was about eleven years old, when his relatives thought it time to send him to some public school or college, and the Pædagogium at Halle was selected as the scene of his early studies. This college was under the direct influence of the Pietists, and was probably chosen by his mother on that account. Here he remained four or five years, making rapid progress in learning; for before he was seventeen we are told that he composed and publicly delivered speeches in Latin, Greek, and French, and was evidently regarded with no little pride by his preceptors. The discipline, however, which