religion, Cranmer was appointed to make one, and he drew up forty-two articles, from which, with some slight alterations and retrenchments, our present thirty-nine articles are formed.

CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXVIII.

Richard. What are the thirty-nine articles? I don't think I ever heard of them before.

Mrs. Markham. When you are of a proper age to understand them, they shall be explained to you. They are articles of belief which contain a short summary of the doctrines of the church of England. Besides the forty-two articles, Cranmer also drew up the church catechism, which he compiled in great measure from that used by the German re- › formers, making some additions of his own*.

Richard. Do you hear that, Mary? I think now you will set about learning it with more steadiness. George. And did Cranmer make those psalms in verse at the end of the prayer book?

Mrs. M. No; those psalms are of two versions, commonly called the old and the new version. In the old version most of the psalms were translated by Thomas Sternhold, assisted by a schoolmaster

The latter part of the catechism concerning the sacraments was added in the reign of James I.

of the name of Hopkins. Sternhold was groom of the robes to Henry VIII., and was first led to attempt a version of the psalms by being very much displeased by the silly and profane songs he used to hear the courtiers sing, and he thought he should do them a kindness by furnishing them with something better to sing than their songs. At first these psalms were sung to the tunes of songs, but soon becoming generally known and approved of, they were adapted to church music.

George. I often try to read them, but I don't think them very poetical.

Mrs. M. No translation into verse of any part of the Bible can equal the beauty, simplicity, and dignity of the original: but the versions of the psalms make a pleasing addition to the little stock of reading of those who have not access to a variety of books; and, verse being more easily remembered than prose, I have known the simple stanzas of these humble translators beguile many a weary hour of pain and weakness among the sick and aged poor.

Richard. I suppose that while the new religion was all going on smoothly and well, there was no more burning of heretics.

Mrs. M. I wish I could say there was not. Cranmer, notwithstanding the natural moderation of his mind, was at times betrayed into the furious zeal of the age; and I lament to say that he condemned two persons, if not more, to be burned, for

being Anabaptists; and this notwithstanding the entreaties of the young king, that they might be spared to live, and to be converted from their errors. George. What a good creature that young king

was!

Mrs. M. There is no knowing how time and circumstances might have changed his character; but his early promise was very great, and his abilities were of a high order, His Latin exercises have been preserved, and, if he was not much assisted by his masters, do him great credit. He latterly kept a daily journal, which may be seen in Burnet's History of the Reformation; his chief study was theology, and his greatest delight was listening to sermons. Latimer was appointed the king's preacher, and had a pulpit placed in one of the royal gardens, where Edward loved to sit out of doors, and listen for hours to his very long ser

mons.

Richard. You mentioned some persons who died of the sweating sickness! That was a very strange disorder, I think!

Mrs. M. I can assure you it was a very dreadful one, and raged to an alarming degree at different times between the years 1483 and 1551, since which time it has totally disappeared, and I trust will never break out again. It usually attacked people in hot weather, and began with a most profuse perspiration, which in a few hours ended in death. It was also highly infectious, and, during its first visita

Afterwards it was discovered that, if the patient lay in bed from the moment he was attacked, he usually recovered in twenty-four hours, but the least chill was certain death.

tion, many thousands died of it.

Mary. What fine books those must have been, mamma, that you spoke of, with all that gold and silver about them!

Richard. I suppose, when books were scarce, people thought they could not honour them enough.

Mrs. M. They were commonly bound in parchment, and more or less ornamented. Sometimes the clasps and the corners of the covers were of gold or silver, and they were frequently secured to their shelves by long chains to prevent their being carried away.

George. Why, really, if they made them so fine, it might tempt even people that could not read to steal them.

Mrs. M. But what would you have thought of some books belonging to one of our later kings, Charles the First, which were bound in velvet, and the clasps set with pearls and precious stones?

Richard. I forgot to ask you, mamma, yesterday evening, what became of all the old monasteries and nunneries.

Mrs. M. Some of them doubtless were levelled with the ground; others, stripped of their timber and lead, were left in ruin, and still remain just objects of admiration to all who delight in the relics

of antiquity. Many were given or sold to laymen, who converted them into dwelling-houses. Some of these, as Bisham Abbey, and many others I could mention, still preserve much of their original monastic appearance; others retain only the name. Woburn Abbey is one of these: I do not believe any thing still remains there that pertained to the original abbey, unless it may be the old oaks, one of which we were shown, on which tradition says that the last abbot was hung, for refusing to give up his house to the king's commissioners. Henry bestowed many of the religious houses on those who attended on his person. One of his attendants was rewarded with some abbey lands for having wheeled his chair farther from the fire; and a lady, whose name is not handed down to us, had a monastic house given to her for making the king a dish of puddings which he liked.

George. There was something good-natured in that, however.

Mrs. M. Many of the larger houses were converted to purposes of public utility. Bedlam Hospital, that is, the old Bedlam, which was in Moorfields, was originally Bethlehem Priory, and was granted to sir Thomas Gresham for the purpose of being converted into an hospital for mad people. St. Thomas's Hospital in London was another of these religious houses, and had been originally built by Thomas à Becket on the spot where his