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years, and contains many valuable meditations, has the following passage upon death and heaven:

"I have had some thoughts about my own latter end-praying that I may be found wrapped in Christ's righteousness. I am thankful that I have been able to weep lately; for it is never better with me than when I can sit or kneel before the Lord, and feel my cheeks moistened with tears of penitence, love, gratitude, and joy. I seem then almost

to hope there will be such tears in heaven."

Mr. Miller was in his seventy-third year at his death. His remains were interred at Brompton Cemetery, and an impressive funeral discourse was preached at Chiswick, by the Rev. J. E. Richards, on the following Sunday, to a numerous auditory, many of whom lamented the loss of a faithful pastor and a spiritual father.

RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY PASTORAL LIFE.

I. OLD ROBERT GRAY.

IN a village near the town where I began my ministry, more than thirty years ago, lived a very poor labouring man, with one daughter, both of whom were members of my church. Robert bore, for years, an honourable and consistent character, which commanded the respect of all who knew him. He was remarkable chiefly for the cheerfulness of his piety, and the quiet good sense with which he spoke on religious topics. In his time he had been a great reader of the Bible and of the Pilgrim's Progress, and his conversations was dyed, so to speak, in the sacred element of the purest theology. Hardly anything was more useful to me, as a young preacher, than the long talks I had with Robert on many questions which perplexed me, but which never appeared to him in any other light than that of Scripture, interpreted, by his beautifully simple and clear understanding, according to his own experience; and often it has struck me, in after years, that it would be a great advantage to theological students to be brought into contact with such

men.

It is to be feared that, for want of such contact, our young men fail in that mode both of apprehending and stating divine truth, which would bring their

conscious

communion

hearers into with the Divine Instructor when reading the Bible, or hearing it expounded in the pulpit. Be that as it may, it was of unspeakable service to me, and, I have reason to know, to not a few in my congregation. Some circumstances have recently recalled some of these scenes of young pastoral labour to my memory, and I know not of any pages in which they can be so fittingly recorded as those of the EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE.

Robert Gray had received in his early days what I call a good education for a peasant. He had been taught by his mother to love the Bible as his mother's book,'and he soon learnt to understand it as the book of his own heart. The plainer portions of its histories, its moral maxims, and its broad, shining doctrines of righteousness and mercy, gradually became familiar to him; and the thoughts of them were the most familiar, and at the same time the most reverential and the most practical that ever occurred to him; and they were always occurring to him in the daily labours of the field. No one would have taken him for a clever man. No one suspected him of being a fool. Every one believed at once all he said; and it was impossible to know

him without feeling sure that, in all weathers, whether times were good or bad, Robert was a truly happy man. But they were only few that knew how intelligently Robert could speak of the reasons of his being happy. He was naturally of a cheerful habit of mind; but living almost in solitude, and being one of the most orderly and sober men you could meet with in the whole parish, he had scarcely any opportunities of indulging in displays of cheerfulness. His landlord, who was an intimate friend of mine, and an officer in our church, had long noticed his regular attendance at the chapel, and as he usually came a good while before the time on Sunday mornings, had almost weekly opportunities of marking the fine qualities of the good man's mind and heart; and between the Sundays, when his business called him into the country, he often took occasion to call at Robert's cottage, and have what he called "a good crack" with him. He mentioned him to me soon after I took charge of the congregation; and I gladly awailed myself of the opportunities so readily afforded, to improve my acquaintance with him. I cannot tell the times in which I went from my books to walk in the fields and spend an hour with my old friend, but I never spent time which was so profitable to me. When in his company, I was always sure that I was in the company of one whose daily talk and walk was with our Saviour, whose inward life was uniformly with Him, on whom the gentle spirit of Jesus was breathed, and whose simple words had in them a power which I never felt in the words of other men; because I supposed they came fresh from his heart, and that heart was continually renewed by unforced communion with the greatest and noblest Heart in the universe. His religion had the naturalness and beautifulness and perfume of the wild flowers that were sprinkled along the hedges and fields through which I had to walk to and from his dwelling; and as the first lessons of botany are

gathered in the hedgerows, so with me the first lessons in real theology were learned in the cottage to which they led me. Robert taught me infinitely more than I ever taught him; though he was the most attentive, and, I may add, the most grateful of hearers. He had evidently no notion of teaching his minister; his whole conception of the Christian ministry, and of the duties of a Christian hearer, would have made him shudder at such an idea, if it had ever crossed his mind, which I believe it never did. The delight of it was to see how inartificially, how unostentatiously, he let one see the unconscious workings of his mind, and how easily one might observe the laws according to which it did work, and produce its blessed results. That he was no hasty, or superficial, or indolent thinker, was most manifest. His movements were slow; his manner of asking questions was singularly modest; and yet the questions he asked would have been quite a capital in the hands of a captious critic. And what a treat it was to see him working his own way in some questions which have puzzled not a few men who deservedly enjoyed the reputation of being profound! Robert's plan, if he had one-which I much doubt-was, to go as straight as he could to the heart of a subject, and, when he had reached it, to grapple with it there, till he saw either how it could be explained, or that it was beyond his powers. He never imagined that his powers were anything particular; but for these powers, and for rightly using them, he felt that he was responsible to God, and he did his best; just in the same spirit in which he left his bed at five o'clock, that he might begin his daily labour with a mind prepared by conscious fellowship with his best Friend, for the toils of the day. Seeing, as he did every day, the outward differences between his own lot and that of many men around him, he avoided the ordinary speculative difficulties, by seeing that if he had been qualified for situations filled by other

the judgment of God, and dwelt on certain speculations of his times about the downfall of Roman power, the establishment of a purer Church, and the speedy approach of the world's endall of which gave a character to this his first production. But he could rest in faith on the Redeemer's love. The book indicates his devout spirit, and the germinant formation of opinions which were destined to unfold in later life. He had evidently begun to see something of the ecclesiastical corruptions of his age, and had begun, too, to form that acquaintance with Scripture truth which ultimately made him so true a reformer.

the good city of Oxford-predecessors | with the sins of mankind; saw in it of our modern gownsmen. There had been thirty thousand, but the number had fallen off. Wicliffe applied himself in earnest to his studies-canon law, civil law, municipal law engaged his time and thoughts. He became familiar with the schoolmen. With logical formularies he was at home. The real treasury of truth and wisdom, as well as the idle subtleties contained in the books of Aquinas and the rest, would be mastered by the young man from Yorkshire. In scholastic disputations he excelled. Indeed, Henry Knighton, who hated his opinions, and denounced the effects of his teaching, was forced to confess that he was most eminently learned in theology, was second to none in his philosophical knowledge, quite incomparable in all school learning, and in his power of vigorous and acute debate, almost superhuman. But in Wicliffe's cell at Merton was there not one book above all others he loved to search into and pray over? Had he a Bible of his own, or only one, or a part of one, borrowed from the shelves of the college library? Be that as it may, he made good use of such access as he had to Holy Scripture, pondering often and deeply the words of prophets, of apostles, and of Christ in the Latin Vulgate dress.

In 1356, Wicliffe comes before us as. author. We find him writing and publishing a book called "The Last Age of the Church." It is of a melancholy cast, as its title indicates. It was written at a melancholy time-pestilence was sweeping away multitudes-all Europe was ravaged. In England the plague began at Dorchester, travelled up to London, and in a few months greatly reduced the population of the city. In a few hours the infected perished. Fear magnified the calamity; and in a frenzy of horror, men said nine-tenths of the race had perished. Wicliffe probably believed that one-half of the population had been hurried into eternity. He connected the visitation

Four years afterwards Wicliffe appears under a new character. He is a controversialist. The Mendicant Orders-the friars black and grey-had acquired a wonderful ascendency in many parts of Christendom. Their popularity was felt at Oxford. Their existence and power had arisen out of the condition of the Church, which required reform. The founders of the Mendicant Orders had sought to meet the want, but they had proved in the long run poor reformers. Being ignorant of the root of the evil, never thinking to dig below the surface, their efforts to cure the priesthood of the pride of wealth, and to make the Church spiritually efficient, had totally failed. The priesthood had become prouder, the Church more secular than ever; and the Mendicants, after all their poverty and zeal, had themselves been made richer and more idle than others of the conventual brotherhoods. Wicliffe saw this-saw much of the mischief the friars had done, and charged them with their offence. He refuted their pretensions from Scripture. They had appealed to Christ's poverty, to the teaching of Scripture as a pattern and authority. To the Holy Gospels and Epistles, the clear-sighted controversialist followed his antagonists, and showed that no valid defence of their assumptions could be discovered there. "The Objections to Friars," the work' of a later period of the

reformer's life, fully makes known to us the grounds of his opposition; and it is apparent, that "while other disputants sought to reform particulars, Wicliffe saw the institute itself as uncommanded, and of evil tendency; and instead of supposing, as some good men had done, that the introduction of such agents formed the most efficient means by which to elevate the character of the more authorized priesthood, he inculcated strongly, that nothing short of a removal of the intruders could restore the Church to its long-lost order and prosperity."

A year later, A.D. 1361, Wicliffe is in academic office. He was appointed warden of Baliol College, and afterwards of Canterbury Hall. A reversal of his appointment was sought, and the case was submitted to Urban V. While it was sub judice, the pontiff revived certain claims in the form of tribute on the English nation, which Edward III. was determined to resist. Wicliffe in the dispute took part against the pope, a proof of his disinterestedness, while his own official position was at the mercy of the court of Rome. Nor can his attacks on the papacy, when the cause had been decided against him, be ascribed to resentment, inasmuch as his battle with the papacy had begun before. In 1372 he took his degree as Doctor in Divinity, and was chosen a theological lecturer. A work which he wrote on the Decalogue, about this time, illustrates the growth of his religious views; with a few exceptions, there is nothing in the treatise which could offend any Protestant reader. "I say thee for certain," he boldly writes, "though thou have priests and friars to sing for thee, and though thou each day hear many masses, and found chauntries and colleges, and go on pilgrimages all thy life, and give all thy goods to pardoners; all this shall not bring thy soul to heaven. While, if the commandments of God are revered to the end, though neither penny nor halfpenny be possessed, there shall be everlasting pardon, and the bliss of heaven."

The scene changes to Bruges. Wicliffe is commissioner, to treat with a papal embassy respecting the reservation of ecclesiastical benefices. Rome had been growing in rapacity. Statutes of "provisors" and "premunire" had been passed to curb its covetousness of wealth and power. Further interference was necessary. pointed between the ministers of the pope and the messengers of the king. Wicliffe was among the latter. The city was then in the height of its commercial splendour and civic freedom. The English commissioner would see much of quaint architecture, sumptuously furnished dwellings, gay and glittering attire, processions and pageants; and something too he would discover of a stern, indomitable, resistful will in merchant princes, who could beard even despotic monarchs. The former would only impress him with the world's vanity; the latter, in which he could sympathise, might strengthen his own strong individuality and force of independent purpose. Perhaps, too, the reformer might at Bruges hear something of men who along the Rhine, and in German and Flemish cities, were, under the name of "friends of God," promoting spiritual religion-undermining formalism and priestcraftand preparing for changes they little dreamt of. Moreover, at Bruges, we know, he learnt so much of the corruption of the Roman court as made him more its enemy than ever.

So a meeting was ap

We must now visit old St. Paul's. There Wicliffe stands forth in his proper character as Reformer. He was cited to meet charges of heresy. John of Gaunt-whom he had known on the Continent-accompanied him to the tribunal, where the scene took place so graphically described by Foxe and Fuller. "The Lord Percy, Lord Marshal of England, had much ado to break through the crowd in the church; so that the bustle he kept with the people highly offended the Bishop of London, as profaning the place, and disturbing the assembly. Whereon

the judgment of God, and dwelt on certain speculations of his times about the downfall of Roman power, the establishment of a purer Church, and the speedy approach of the world's endall of which gave a character to this his first production. But he could rest in faith on the Redeemer's love. The book indicates his devout spirit, and the germinant formation of opinions which were destined to unfold in later life. He had evidently begun to see something of the ecclesiastical corruptions of his age, and had begun, too, to form that acquaintance with Scripture truth which ultimately made him so true a reformer.

the good city of Oxford-predecessors with the sins of mankind; saw in it of our modern gownsmen. There had been thirty thousand, but the number had fallen off. Wicliffe applied himself in earnest to his studies-canon law, civil law, municipal law engaged his time and thoughts. He became familiar with the schoolmen. With logical formularies he was at home. The real treasury of truth and wisdom, as well as the idle subtleties contained in the books of Aquinas and the rest, would be mastered by the young man from Yorkshire. In scholastic disputations he excelled. Indeed, Henry Knighton, who hated his opinions, and denounced the effects of his teaching, was forced to confess that he was most eminently learned in theology, was second to none in his philosophical knowledge, quite incomparable in all school learning, and in his power of vigorous and acute debate, almost superhuman. But in Wicliffe's cell at Merton was there not one book above all others he loved to search into and pray over? Had he a Bible of his own, or only one, or a part of one, borrowed from the shelves of the college library? Be that as it may, he made good use of such access as he had to Holy Scripture, pondering often and deeply the words of prophets, of apostles, and of Christ in the Latin Vulgate dress.

Four years afterwards Wicliffe appears under a new character. He is a controversialist. The Mendicant Orders-the friars black and grey-had acquired a wonderful ascendency in many parts of Christendom. Their popularity was felt at Oxford. Their existence and power had arisen out of the condition of the Church, which required reform. The founders of the Mendicant Orders had sought to meet the want, but they had proved in the long run poor reformers. Being ignorant of the root of the evil, never thinking to dig below the surface, their efforts to cure the priesthood of the pride of wealth, and to make the Church spiritually efficient, had totally failed. The priesthood had become prouder, the Church more secular than ever; and the Mendicants, after all their poverty and zeal, had themselves been made richer and more idle than others of the conventual brotherhoods. Wicliffe saw

In 1356, Wicliffe comes before us as author. We find him writing and publishing a book called "The Last Age of the Church." It is of a melancholy cast, as its title indicates. It was written at a melancholy time-pestilence was sweeping away multitudes-all | this-saw much of the mischief the Europe was ravaged. In England the friars had done, and charged them with plague began at Dorchester, travelled their offence. He refuted their pretenup to London, and in a few months sions from Scripture. They had appealed greatly reduced the population of the to Christ's poverty, to the teaching of city. In a few hours the infected Scripture as a pattern and authority. perished. Fear magnified the calamity; To the Holy Gospels and Epistles, the and in a frenzy of horror, men said clear-sighted controversialist followed nine-tenths of the race had perished. his antagonists, and showed that no Wicliffe probably believed that one-half valid defence of their assumptions could of the population had been hurried into be discovered there. "The Objections to eternity. He connected the visitation Friars," the work of a later period of the

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