This little work, which chiefly attacked the clergy, was fixed at the entrance of the chapel of Bethlehem. It was rapidly dispersed throughout Bohemia, and it proved very successful.

John Huss also wrote at this period his treatise on "the Abominations of the Monks," the title of which sufficiently expresses its object, and also "the Members of Antichrist," a vehement and warm attack upon the pope and his court. His trials, difficulties, and persecutions, seemed to have soured his temper, to judge from the character of these last-mentioned works.

His style, strengthened by the supplies which he drew from Scripture, and inspired by a natural ardour, which too often degenerated into rage, here contains some turns and expressions offensive to modern delicacy; and abounds, also, in those emblems and that figurative style which is found in the great prophets of old, (the subjects of his study,) especially Ezekiel. He is carried away, and launches forth against all the inventions for filling the coffers of the church. Images, relics, legends, and canonizations, are each in turn vigorously attacked. He compares the persecutors and murderers of living saints to the huntsmen, who feast upon and extol the victims of their chase; or to the Jews, who having killed the prophets, whitened and adorned their sepulchres; and to the Romans, who, after slaying their emperors, erected statues to them, and honoured them as gods. He reproves the worship of dead saints, as an invention of the devil, to draw men from the duties of love and charity, which are commanded in the gospel to be practised towards the saints that are yet in the body. He closes with these remarkable words:" This undue worship of saints, truly an invention of hypocrisy, is an inexhaustible source of superstitions, injurious to real holiness. The virtues of the dead, whose examples are removed from us, are highly commended; the piety of the living, whose examples might be more beneficially considered, is treated with scorn. Pride and cruelty, avarice and luxury, have nourished this worship; vanity is flattered by exalting the virtues of the dead; that inflicts no wound on our self-love. But envy, hurt at the virtues of those still living, uses her utmost efforts to sully their brightness. Men are generous towards the saints that are in heaven, because they are beyond the reach of their

cruelty, and fear them, as being in the immediate presence of God; but they are cruel towards those still living on earth, because it is to their interest to keep down true virtue; they are niggardly towards them, and despoil them, but they are prodigal towards the glorified saints, who are in need of nothing; they deck the bodies of these with silk, with gold and silver, and lodge them splendidly, but they refuse to clothe, or treat with hospitality, those poor members of Christ who are amongst us, and at whose expense they feast and intoxicate themselves."

In the same treatise, after having referred to the glorious transfiguration of the Saviour on Mount Tabor, he thus reproves the slothfulness of prelates. He says, "They had rather follow Christ to Mount Tabor than to his cross. To satisfy their vanity they invent so many ceremonies and feasts, and bodily exercises, which are daily multiplied, to dazzle the people, and amuse them with a vain hope of meriting eternal life by observing these traditions. It were better to increase in love, to multiply works of mercy, and other Christian graces, to administer the sacraments according to the gospel, and to exercise strict discipline. But as to these things, our present scribes and Pharisees take little trouble, because they would derive from them neither worldly glory nor temporal gains." Is not this address already an anticipation of the mighty and resounding language of Luther? Are not these the first movements of the waves, and the gusts of wind, which give the early indications of the coming storm, threatening all who

are found in its course?

However, there is no proof that John Huss was aware of the great revolution for which he prepared the way. To understand the drift of his mission, and the importance of the part which he maintained to the last, with equal constancy and courage, as well as his influence over Europe, it will be sufficient to number his enemies, and consider their power.

The most to be dreaded of these, who thought that he had crushed John Huss by the thunders which he hurled against Ladislaus, was John XXIII., who was himself strongly agitated by the apprehensions which beset him in his court at Bologna, and was not at all preserved from inward terrors by his supreme power of opening the gates of heaven

and hell; for a new emperor, who was an enemy to the corruption of the clergy, had just ascended the throne: this was Sigismund of Hungary, the brother of Wenceslaus. This prince was a zealous Roman Catholic, and had long devoted himself to the defence of the church; and its deplorable condition was to him a constant subject of uneasiness. It was still divided between three popes; and while John XXIII., at Bologna, was thundering against his opponents, Gregory XII. at Rimini, and Benedict XIII. in Aragon, repaid his maledictions with interest. The simony, of which the pontiffs had given example, had conquered the great body of ecclesiastics. Fresh opinions agitated Bohemia, Moravia, England, and part of Germany. Piety, among both priests and laymen, had given place to a rivalry of superstitious observances, by which the Idead letter was substituted for the regenerating work of the Spirit upon the heart.

The anarchy which prevailed in Europe was but a small part of the evil that existed. Hordes of Mohammedans were already threatening its borders, advancing like boisterous waves commissioned to wash away the mass of iniquity, and to efface the stains of the church, by swallowing it in their depths.

Though such a scene might excite his sorrow, Sigismund knew not the true source of the danger; but in his twofold character, of an emperor and a devotee, he hated all opposition, all independence of mind, and attributed the woes of christendom to the advocates of the new doctrines, and the supporters of the schism. Against these, therefore, he collected all his powers, and he thought that a general council, convoked with the twofold purpose of extinguishing the schism and smothering heresy, would restore the best days of the church. The council of Pisa was not a sufficient experiment, in his opinion, and in that of the monarchs of Europe; for at that period the imperial power, and the authority of the church, were struggling for the mastery. The emperor Robert had declared himself opposed to the council, which had been too quickly broken up. Now the temporal and spiritual powers must be made to act simultaneously, and with one accord; the authority of the church must be sustained by the sword of the emperor, and all Christianity must be summoned to a general assembly, to extinguish heresy,

and to reform the church, both in its head and its members.

Such were the views of Sigismund, and such the cause of the alarm of John xx111., who trembled, especially as he was aware that his own scandalous conduct had provoked this design, and that he had been his own greatest enemy. He would willingly have treated the project of the emperor as rash and impious, and have replied to it by a fresh sentence of excommunication; but he saw the dangerous consequences of his own passions pressing upon him, and the dangers that threatened him enchained his thunders. Ladislaus, proving victorious, pursued him with mortal and implacable hatred; he was master of Rome, and the pontiff had no hope against him, except from the sword of Sigismund. Thus, in some degree, forced by an inexorable necessity, John XXIII. was irresolute, he seemed struck with giddiness. It was of the utmost moment to his personal independence, that the city chosen for the place of assembly should not be within the imperial boundaries; but all his measures were marked, as it were, by fatality. The imperial city of Constance was appointed, unknown to him, and agreed to by his legates, and when he was informed of this choice, it was too late for him to dictate another.

Pressed between Ladislaus, his enemy, and Sigismund, his defender, almost equally afraid of both; alarmed by the recollections of a life passed in crimes, which were about to be openly disclosed; in short, bitterly reproaching himself, John XXIII. was already vanquished, when a memorable conference between himself and Sigismund was entered upon at Lodi. There both were in disguise; the pope concealed his weakness beneath the splendid array of his pontifical dignity; the emperor covered his authority under the simple habit of a deacon. The discussion was long, but not serious, and the name of the city of Constance having been pronounced, the emperor asked, in a tone of determination, "Does that city suit you, holy father?" "Yes, my beloved son, it suits me well," returned the pope. And he shuddered, as he bent his head, evincing thus, by his want of power, what a historian who witnessed this scene has truly remarked: "There is no way of escape from what God has decreed."(Leon. Aret. de rebus Ital.)

The convocation of a general council was at length settled. The place and

time of the meeting were fixed. Sigismund | pressed forward. On October the 30th, 1413, he published an edict, announcing that, in perfect accordance with pope John xxi., whom he called his mighty lord, a council should be assembled at Constance, on the first of November in the following year, that city being chosen as one in which full liberty to all parties might be promised.

Sigismund, in his character of the defender and advocate of the church, titles which the canons allowed to the emperor, invited to the council Gregory XII., Benedict XIII., the king of France, and the other sovereigns. "The malice of men,' said he, in his letter to Charles vI., "has increased to such a degree, that, unless a prompt remedy is applied, it is to be feared, that hereafter any cure will be impossible." John XXIII., in concert with the emperor, invited to the council all who possessed any authority in Christendom. They projected, not only to reform the church, and to extinguish the schism, but also to stifle the rising heresy. There was then a man in Bohemia, who, by the sound of his name, by his writings and boldness of speech, and especially by the oppressive lustre of his virtues, represented in himself all the innovators of Europe, and this was John Huss. In him they must all be silenced, and therefore he was cited to appear before the

council.

Never, from the earliest time of Christianity, had such pains been taken to have so imposing an assembly. Never were more weighty questions proposed for debate. It was now to be decided whether the man was accursed, who refused to believe that a simoniacal and impious priest could open or shut the gates of heaven at his will-whether, in the interpretation of Scripture, the rights of conscience were to be respected or condemned whether the clergy could fix the boundaries, and engage wisely to employ the powers they had so far abused. Lastly, for many, it was now to be determined, whether the Roman Catholic religion could be reformed, and whether that church which refused to allow that salvation was possible out of its own bosom, could save itself!

THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH THE
CARPENTER.

THE following is from "Weissman's Latin Historia Eccles.," a valuable work,

written about 1700, never translated into English :

It is wonderful to observe the deep and sacred silence of the Scriptures, and the foolish curiosity and vain reasoning of men, upon the subject of the reputed father of our blessed Lord. The chief thing that is known of Joseph, the carpenter, of Nazareth, is contained in one word, of the fullest meaning; he is called, in holy writ, a just man. He was honoured by frequent messages from God and visits of angels, and it may be added, that he showed his ready faith and exact obedience at these divine warnings, so that it is easy to prove that he was a pious man, humble, and despised by the world, but not by God.

He was the protector of the Son of God during the early years of his earthly life. The espoused husband of Mary, the mother of Jesus, thus received a name which has been known in all ages of the world. As head of the family to which Jesus belonged, he exercised some sort of authority over him, Luke ii. 51, and was a fellow-worker in the secret purposes of God! Matt. i. 16. These are mysteries, not to be too curiously questioned.

He was a lowly mechanic, and the same title was given to the Son of God himself, Mark vi. 3. But he was adorned by a title that was better than all the purple and gold of Herod, because it bespoke an upright and holy mind. Not crowns or riches, power or station, distinguished him; but he was humble and pious before God and man, united to the Saviour in spirit, as well as in the flesh.

It is not known whether Mary was his first wife or not. Some have thought that the individuals mentioned, Matt. xii. 41; John ii. 12, were the children of Joseph by a former marriage; but the word brethren will apply also to other kinsmen less near-the relatives of Joseph and Mary. Many fabulous circumstances narrated respecting Joseph must be passed over; but it is to be observed, that the message, on returning from Egypt, was given to him, not to Mary, or to the child Jesus, that due order in the family arrangements might be maintained. It is probable that Joseph was the first to be removed by death, and it is not unlikely that his body might have been one of those raised after the resurrection of Christ, Matt. xxvii. 52, 53.

THE CARSE OF GOWRIE.

THE road from Perth to Dundee passes along the Carse of Gowrie, so celebrated for its fertility. This is an argillaceous plain, about fifteen miles in length and four in breadth, bounded on one side by the Tay, which divides it from the Fife, and on the other by a range of hills. From geological appearances, it may be inferred, that the space occupied by the carse was formerly an estuary or inland lake, dotted here and there with islands, which still rise a little above the plain, and bear the appropriate denomination of "inches," inch being the Gallic for island-as Inchyere, Meginch, and Inchsture. So lately as the middle of the eighteenth century, the greater part of the ground continued to be in the condition of a clayey marsh. Tradition is supported by the appearance of the country in representing the first channel assumed by the Tay skirting the hills on the north side, while the Earn pursued a solitary course where it now flows in APRIL, 1847.

union with the larger river. The original only about sixty years ago superseded by road from Perth to Dundee, which was the present line through the carse, lay along what must have been the left bank of the Tay. An ancient anchor was found within the memory of men, in the old channel at Flawcraig, near Fingask, where a cliff on the face of the hills has commonly obtained the name of the Anchor Rock. These great changes in the face of nature appear to have made a strong impression on the people, who are full of old sayings and traditions respecting them, and entertain a notion that the waters of the Frith of Tay are still in the course of receding from the land.

Dundee, there are two large boulders, At Invergowry, about four miles from surrounded by water, but are now left by which are said to have been formerly every tide; these are called the Gows of Gowry. According to popular report, Thomas the Rhymer gave out that,

"When the Gows of Gowry come to land,
The day of judgment 's near at hand."

L

"St. Johnston ere long in the Highland will be, And the salt water scarcely will reach to Dundee: Sea-cover'd Drumly will then be dry land, Another Bell-Rock as high as the Ailsar will stand."

It is certain that the amount of sand daily deposited by the Tay is very considerable, and appears likely, at no distant period, to reduce the Frith of Tay to little more than a deep river.

The carse is enlivened by a number of thriving villages. Errot, distinguished in the landscape by its handsome parish church, which is seen from a great distance, is situated near the centre of the track. Inchture and Longforgau are populous and rapidly-improving villages, on the road from Perth to Dundee. The battlements of Castle Huntley, seen over the trees which surround it, have a strikingly romantic effect. At Port Allan, Powgavie, and Invergowrie, on the Frith of Tay, are small harbours, from which the abundant produce of this rich agricultural district is shipped. •*" The Face of the Earth," published by the Religious Tract Society.

APPEARANCES OF NATURE.

APRIL.

this month.

And now

"April hath come on,

And the cool winds feel softer, and the rain
Falls in the beaded drops of summer time.
You may hear birds at morning, and at eve
The tame dove lingers till the twilight falls,
Cooing upon the eaves, and drawing in
His beautiful bright neck."

The

To adopt the words of Gawain Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld: "The glebe, fearless of the northern blasts, spreads her broad bosom. The corn crops and the new sprung barley reclothe the earth with a gladsome garment. The meadow is besprinkled with rivulets, and the fresh moisture of the dewy night restores the herbage which the cattle had cropped during the day. The blossoms in the blowing garden trust their heads to the protection of the young sun. blooming hawthorn clothes all the thorns in flowers. The budding clusters of the tender grapes hang end-long by their tendrils from the trellises. The germs of the trees unlocking, expand themselves into the foliage of nature's tapestry. There is a soft verdure after balmy showers; the flowers smile in various colours on their bending stalks; some red, others watchet, like the blue and wavy sea, speckled with red and white, or bright as gold. The daisy embraids her little coronet. The grass stands embattled with bane-wort; the seeded down flies from the dandelion.

"Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it:
Thou greatly enrichest it with the river of
God, which is full of water.

Thou preparest them corn,
When thou hast so provided for it.

Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly:
Thou settlest the furrows thereof:

Thou makest it soft with showers:
Thou blessest the springing thereof.
Thou crownest the year with thy goodness;
And thy paths drop fatness.

They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness :
And the little hills rejoice on every side."

April is proverbial for its showers, conspiring with the objects associated with them to augment our admiration of the Power by whom the minutest arrangements of nature are adjusted and perfected. The alternations of fair weather and showers are much more favourable to the progress of the vegetable creation, than any uniform course. obtain this variety, the antagonistic forces of steam, air, and heat, are continually acting and reacting, thus producing the

Chambers' Scotland.

Το

or within the pale-enclosed park, the nimble deer troop in ranks, the harts wander through the thick wood-shaws, and the young fawns follow the dappled does. Kids slip through the briers after the roes, and in the pastures and leas the lambs bleat to their dams. The ringdove coos in the tall copse. The starling whistles her varied descant; the sparrow chirps in the clefted wall; the goldfinch and linnet fill the skies; the cuckoo cries, the quail twitters; while rivers, shaws, and every dale resound;

and the tender branches tremble on the trees, at the song of the birds and the buzzing of the bees."

Who, that in the smallest degree appreciates the beauties of nature, is not filled cheerful verdure of the meadows, the with pleasing emotions, on observing the luxuriant appearance of the trees, the bloom of the flowers, and the animal creation happy and active? Well may the thoughtful have found in these objects a delightful theme, and the poet chosen