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BANNOCKS FROM THE LAND O CAKES.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

"Yea, though I walk throngh the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'

"The Lord is my herd; nae want sal fa' me."

"Na', tho' I gang thro' the dead-mirkdail, e'en thar sal I dread nae skaithin; for yersel are nar-by me; yer stok an' yer stay haud me baith fu' cheerie."

The English of the above passages is fine, but who will deny to the Scotch an added charm and expressiveness?

Sermons were thought nothing of if they were read. So strongly did one hearer object to the use of the manuscript in the pulpit, that when told of a minister who couldn't read, because he was blind, replied, "I wish they were all blin'."

Great interest used to attach to the celebration of the Lord's Supper. "Occasions," they were called, when distinguished ministers were invited to preach, and when each tried to excel the other. At one of these celebrations, Dr. Scott, of Dumfries, was the only local man who received an invitation to preach, and expressing his fear that he would be unworthy to appear among the rest, a brother clergyman said, "Ye're quite mista'en; tak' your Resurrection (a well-known service used for such occasions by him), an' I'll lay my lug ye'll beat every clute o' them." The doctor did take it, and in the opinion of one old woman carried the palm. "Leeze me abune them a'," said she, "for yon auld clear-headed (bald) man, that said, 'Raphael sings, an' Gabriel strikes his goolden harp, an' a' the angels clap their wings wi' joy.' O but it was gran'! It just put me in min' o' our geese at Dunjarg, when they turn their nebs to the south, an' clap their wings when they see the rain's comin' after lang drooth.''

A LIE ON THE FACE OF GOD'S HOUSE.

The personal contact of the minister with his people gave rise to many a touch of genuine humour, of which the following may be taken as a sample. The father of Dr. Norman McLeod was about to open a new place of worship, when he was met near the crowded door by an elderly man, wearing a somewhat striking reddish brown wig, who said: "Doctor, if you please I wish to speak to you."

"Well, Duncan," said the doctor, "can you not wait till after worship?"

"No, doctor; I must speak to you now, for it is a matter upon my conscience."

"Oh, since it is a matter of conscience, tell me what it is; but be brief, Duncan, for time passes."

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The matter is this, doctor. Ye see the clock yonder, on the face of the new church. Well, there is no clock really there; nothing but the face of a clock. There is no truth in it, but only once in the twelve hours. Now, it is in my mind very wrong, and quite against my conscience, that there should be a lie on the face of the house of the Lord." "Duncan, I will consider the point. But I am glad to see you looking so well: you are not young now; I remember you for many years; and what a fine head of hair you have still."

"Eh, doctor, you are joking now; it is long since I have had any hair."

BANNOCKS FROM THE LAND O CAKES.

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"Oh, Duncan, Duncan, are you going into the house of the Lord with a lie upon your head ?"

The doctor heard no more about the lie on the face of God's house. Very droll were the replies elicited sometimes at the catechisings prior to the communion. For instance, a man was asked, "What kind of man was Adam?" Some answer was expected descriptive of unfallen human nature, but the reply was, "Ou, just like ither fouk." On pressing for further explanation, the catechumen replied, "Weel, he was just like Joe Simson the horse-couper." "How so ?" asked the minister. "Weel, naebody got onything by him, and mony lost."

It was not a reply taken from the Westminster Catechism, but it is worth noting nevertheless. So also is the remark made by a poor widow about her departed husband. He was one of those thriftless fellows who only lived to consume the hard-earned money of his poor wife Jeanie. The minister on calling said, "Providence in His mercy has seen fit to take awa' the head of yer house, Jeanie, lass." "Aye," said the bereaved wife, "but, thank goodness, Providence in His mercy has ta'en awa' the stommack tae!"

DAFT FOLK.

Not a few of these figure in Scottish stories, and there is a peculiarly pleasant flavour in the amusing cuteness with which they are credited. Daft Jock Amos was found whittling a stick on the Sabbath-day. Mr. Boston remonstrated with him, and asked

"What is the reason you never come to church ?"

"Because you never preach on the text I want you to preach on." "What text would you have me to preach on ?"

"On the nine-and-twenty knives that came back from Babylon." "I never heard of them before."

"It is a sign you never read your Bible. Ha, ha, ha, Mr. Boston! sic fool, sic minister."

Mr. Boston searched for the text when he got home, and found it in Ezra i. 9. But the story gave rise to a proverb, "The more fool are ye, as Jock Amos said to the minister."

Jamie Fleeman was another celebrity of this type, and it is related of him that he once managed to turn the laugh against a minister. It happened on this wise. Mr. Cragie used frequently to call Jamie a fool. One day Jamie met him, and holding out a horseshoe he had just found in the road, he asked him if he could tell him what it was. "That," said Mr. Cragie, "that's a horseshoe, you fool!" Ah," responded Fleeman, with an affected sigh, "what a blessing it is to be weel larned; I couldna tell whether it was a horse's shoe or a mare's shoe!" Many other sayings are ascribed to Jamie, but as this paper must come to a close I will end it with the last of them.

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Jamie was dying. One standing by the bedside said, "I wonder if he has any sense of another world, or a future reckoning." "Oh, no,” replied another; "he's a fool, he's a fool; what can he know of such things?" At this Jamie opened his eyes, and looking the last speaker in the face, said, "I never heard that God seeks what He did not give; but I am a Christian, and dinna bury me like a beast."

J. FLETCHER.

WITHIN the last two months many things have been said and sung in praise of Martin Luther, his fidelity to conscience, his heroism, and broad genial manly piety. But what married man can we thoroughly know until we know his "better half?" and certainly Luther's was a character to which it is impossible to do fall justice until we have seen him at home, unbending himself in the society of wife and children.

For this reason we think that our readers, before quite putting away among the things of the past the celebration of Luther's birthday, will be not uninterested by a short account of the distinguished Reformer's "dear and faithful wife," as he called her, Katherine von Bora.

Of Katherine's parentage little is known. The "von" prefixed to her surname indicates that her family was noble. Early in life she became a nun, and at the age of twenty-two, entered the convent of Nimptsch, a town of Saxony, not far from Leipsic-an establishment intended especially for young ladies of title. Whether Katherine became a nun from choice, or was devoted to that mode of life by her parents, as many young women were in those days, we are not informed. But at that time the principles of the Reformation were being warmly discussed among all classes of society, and even nuns in their cloisters could not fail to hear something of the new doctrines. The result was

KATHERINE VON BORA.

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that Katherine and eight other inmates of the same convent, became convinced that the vows they had taken were not only contrary to the dictates of nature, but also without the sanction of Christianity, and began to sigh for deliverance.

They first wrote to their parents, asking to be released from their cloister-prisons and to be restored to their homes; but that appeal failing, sought the assistance of Luther. He, with the help of a brave citizen of the neighbouring town of Torgau, named Leonard Koppe, immediately took measures for their rescue. On the evening of Good Friday, in the year 1523, Koppe and his friends arrived at the convent of Nimptsch, where they found the nuns, who had received private notice of their coming, waiting in anxious expectation. They, descending from the window of Katherine's room into the court, where she in the hurry left one of her slippers, were lifted by strong arms over the walls, and placed in a waggon that was waiting to convey them. In order to prevent suspicion and inconvenient enquiries on the road, Koppe had provided nine large casks, such as were commonly used for the conveyance of herrings, and a nun being placed inside each of these great casks, in due time all arrived in safety at Torgau, and then, two days later, at Wittemberg, where Luther resided.

The next question was, how they were to be provided for. First, Luther brought them to the house of an honourable citizen of Wittemberg, where they were treated with the utmost kindness. Then, he wrote to their parents, informing them of what had taken place, and entreating them to take their children home. In how many cases this appeal to natural parental feeling prevailed we know not; but in several instances it failed, and the nuns remained at Wittemberg, where they found hospitable homes in the families of friendly citizens.

Among these was Katherine von Bora, who was received into the family of Philip Reichenbach, burgomaster and town-clerk of the city.

It is said of Katherine that whilst not a regular beauty she was good-looking; and about her air and manner there was a dignity without affectation which at the very first sight commanded respect.

There is evidence that Luther, whilst admiring her decision and strength of character, and probably taking special interest in her, had yet for some time no idea of making her his wife. He even tried to arrange a marriage for her with one of his friends. But this falling through, and Luther about the same time being urged by his fellowreformers, and especially by his own father, to make a practical protest against monastic vows by himself entering the marriage state, he seems to have turned his thoughts towards Katherine.

His resolution being once formed, Luther, as his manner was, carried it into effect with all expedition, to the astonishment of both friends and foes.

Even Katherine was taken by surprise. On a certain day in June, 1525, accompanied by three friends, he went to Reichenbach's house, where she still resided; and immediately, without previous courtship, asked her hand in marriage. At first she thought he was in jest; but at length, perceiving him to be in sober earnest, with blushes

and maidenly modesty gave her consent. A formal betrothment followed in German fashion, and on the same day the marriage was solemnised and the nuptial benediction pronounced by Dr. Bugenhagen, one of the three friends who had accompanied him on this eventful occasion. The next day, the marriage of Martin Luther and Katherine von Bora having become known, the magistrates of the town sent to them congratulations and a handsome wedding present. Shortly afterwards the University of Wittemberg also presented them with a costly piece of silver and gold plate, which is still in existence.

At the date of their marriage Luther was forty-two years old, Katherine twenty-six. Though the marriage was sudden, the two knew one another well beforehand, and it proved a very happy one. Katherine greatly admired her husband, and as a loving wife made it her business to lighten his cares and promote his happiness. "In his leisure hours

she was to be seen seated beside him in his study, or in the summer months, in the garden, occupying herself at some piece of embroidery or other work of feminine skill. She reminded him of the letters he had to answer, and relieved him of all care as to domestic affairs, proving herself to be a notable housewife. But if dangers threatened him, she was filled with anxiety and apprehension."* Thus, on one occasion Luther, excusing himself for not going on a certain journey in which he would have been exposed to the machinations of his enemies, writes thus to his friends." The tears of my Katy prevent me from coming; she thinks it will be perilous." Under his frequent illnesses she watched over him with assiduous care, and under the depression of spirits to which he was subject, strove to drive away his melancholy by repeating to him passages of Scripture, or by privately sending for his friend Justus Jonas, whose pleasant talk usually restored him to cheerfulness.

On the other hand Katherine's worth was fully appreciated by Luther. Writing to a friend about a year after his marriage, he says: "Katy, my dear rib, salutes you. She is by the blessing of God quite well-I would not exchange my poverty with her for the riches of Croesus." "I love my Katy," said he on another occasion; "I love her more than I do myself, for I would die rather than any harm should happen to her, or to her children."

Both of them being persons of strong will and decided character, very likely there were now and again differences of opinion, but nothing to seriously interrupt their harmony or mutual affection. Luther, as is well known, was full of humour, and would sometimes playfully allude to Katherine's assertion of the fact that she had a mind of her own. Thus he remarked on one occasion:-"If I were to marry again, I would carve for myself an obedient wife out of a block of marble, for unless I did so, I should despair of finding one." And he often concluded letters to his friends with such expressions as these :-"My lord Katy, my empress Katy, salutes you."

Six children were born to Luther and Katherine. One, their eldest daughter Elizabeth, died whilst yet an infant. Another girl, Magdalene,

* Anderson's Ladies of the Reformation. Vol. II.