Rambles through the British Isles . 292 Ramlles tlirough the British Isles into a narrow lane called the Netherbow. Here at the com-mencement of this narrow street stands a queer looking oldbuilding, called John Knoxs house. Where is the God of Salem? where Our Scottish glory given?Where Knoxs spirit—Melvilles care—The soul of fire, the hand to dare, Eefonning gifts of Heaven 1 When Scotia, from her hills of blue, Her glens and mosses given.Beheld the truth burst on her view,Aside the crucifix she threw. And seized the Book of Heaven ! Her chieftain Knox her banner led. From Popery now riven—T

Rambles through the British Isles . 292 Ramlles tlirough the British Isles into a narrow lane called the Netherbow. Here at the com-mencement of this narrow street stands a queer looking oldbuilding, called John Knoxs house. Where is the God of Salem? where Our Scottish glory given?Where Knoxs spirit—Melvilles care—The soul of fire, the hand to dare, Eefonning gifts of Heaven 1 When Scotia, from her hills of blue, Her glens and mosses given.Beheld the truth burst on her view,Aside the crucifix she threw. And seized the Book of Heaven ! Her chieftain Knox her banner led. From Popery now riven—T

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Rambles through the British Isles . 292 Ramlles tlirough the British Isles into a narrow lane called the Netherbow. Here at the com-mencement of this narrow street stands a queer looking oldbuilding, called John Knoxs house. Where is the God of Salem? where Our Scottish glory given?Where Knoxs spirit—Melvilles care—The soul of fire, the hand to dare, Eefonning gifts of Heaven 1 When Scotia, from her hills of blue, Her glens and mosses given.Beheld the truth burst on her view,Aside the crucifix she threw. And seized the Book of Heaven ! Her chieftain Knox her banner led. From Popery now riven—The field she took—no blood she shed—The cause was won—she raised her headAmid the blaze of heaven I The nations saw—nor saw in vain— • Away the foe was driven;And Europe from the gloomy reignOf terror rose, and blessed again The holy light of heaven! Thus Salem wept at Babels stream,Where foemen her had driven— She wept, she sighed, she saw the beamOf hope descend—it looked a dream,But twas the God of heaven 1. ^1^ m John Knoxs XXXIII. IIoilE OF THK GlCEAT EeFORJIER. Time consrcrates ;And what is sray with age becomes religion. - Schil yF the the houses in Edinburgli this is theHere in this -- one I wanted to see most . ,/ quaint old building lived and labored one of /.sj the boldest spirits of the Eeformation, a W^^Sr^^J ™^ over whose grave tlie Regent of Scotland, M jJN^^ truthfully pronounced this noble eulogium :— ° fl«>^ ^^^^ ^^^s he who never feared the face of man. [??^^l Next to the house is the church in which he preached fearlessly and eloqixontly to kings and quiiens. James Melville, 20 294 Ramlles through the British Isles. speaking of John Knox as a preoxher, says : In the opening ofhis text he was moderate the space of an half-hour ; but whenhe enterit to application, he made me sa to grew and tremblethat I could nocht hold a pen to wryte. Mr. Knox waldsumtymes come in and repose him in our college yard, andcall us scholars to him