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deeper work of grace, for entire deliverance from these incipient forms of evil—for that fulness of love which at once casts out all slavish fear, and counteracts and destroys every antagonistic principle. In a word, we should seek to be 'sanctified wholly''—'to perfect holiness, in the fear of the Lord.'"



The one thing wanted for the salvation of the world is the preparation of the Church. She must awake to a sense of her position and her responsibility. She must appreciate the work to be accomplished, and the part which she is to bear in it. She must sympathize with the will of the Saviour, and burn with desire to see it fulfilled on earth as in heaven.

Worldly patronage and worldly conformity, lifeless formalities and corrupt superstitions, selfish indifference and angry dissensions must be the subjects of inward, public and universal lamentation, and all the redeemed must be resolved to come into a state of visible union and fraternal fellowship and co-operation, and must yield themselves to God, that he may graciously mould them to this issue by the Spirit of love.

There must be the unreserved and cordial surrender of ourselves, and of all that we possess, to the proposed end. The work is great—inconceivably great—and it demands all that we can offer. Our talents, time, life and person must all be devoted; it must live through all our occupations, and breathe through all our desires.

As all of individual life must be given, so all of the whole Church is to be presented. The act of consecration is to be as extensive as the act of redemption. None—not the least—is to be exempted from the duty, or deprived of the privilege. Youth is to come with its enthusiasm, and maturity with its sagacity. Babes and sucklings are to find their hosannas, and the hoary head is to find its crown of glory in this service. The poor is to present bis mite, and the rich to pour forth their treasures. The learned must vield

their talent, the noble their distinctions, and kings their authority. On every volume, on every ship, on every sanctuary, and on every habitation, and on every heart of the redeemed must be the one living inscription, "Holiness to the Lord!" And the whole Church, as the sacramental host of God's elect, must arise in her strength and beauty, placing her feet on the weapons of earthly warfare, and lifting her hands to heaven ; and the One Crv must go up like the sound of many waters, and reverberating on every shore, " The world for Christ—the world for Christ!"

O Church of the living God, awake, awake! when wilt thou awake, if not now? Is it not enough that thou hast slumbered long already, while the Saviour has been waiting for thee, and millions have perished without thine aid? Is it not enough that by negligence, strife, and carnal indulgence, thou hast been long the scorn and not the terror of thine adversaries? Is it not enough that thou hast wandered long, miserable and disconsolate, in the homeless wilderness? Lift up thine eyes! The land of rest, and peace, and promise is before thee! Providence calls thee, occasion waits on thee, the wide world solicits thee! Old dynasties and old idolatries which bathed their heads in heaven are mouldering at thy feet; and all things invite thee to universal empire and supernal glory.

O Spirit of the living God! wait not for the dilatory Church, but graciously now prepare her for supple mentary and consummate grace. Awaken her to a conception of thy mind and sympathy with thy designs. Give her the heart of penitential love and perfect devotedness. Heal all her strifes by the waters of the sanetuary, and pervade all her members as one life—all-seeing, all-mighty, and all-glorious. Show her her vocation, and gird her for its accomplishment. Give the mighty heart and perfect faith, to which conflict

is easy, and victory certain. And when the last victory is won, and the last enemy conquered, and the world presented to the Saviour, let no hand be seen, no mercy adored — but Thine.N. Y. Evangelist.


"My Dear Sir,—In answering your questions concerning the palaco of the Inquisition at Rome, I should say that I can only give a few superficial and imperfect notes. So short was the time that it remained open to the public, so groat the crowd of persons that pressed to catch a sight of it, and so intense the horror inspired by that accursed place, that I could not obtain a more exact and particular impression.

"I found no instruments of tor ture ;* for they were destroyed at the time of the first French invasion, and because such instruments were not used afterwards by the modern Inquisition. I did, however, find, in one of the prisons of the second court, a furnace, and the remains of a woman's dress. I shall never be able to believe that that furnace was used for the living, it not being in such a place, or of such a kind, as to be of service to them. Everything, on the contrary, combines to persuade me that it was made use of for horrible deaths, and to consume the remains

* Tbe gag, the thumb-screw, and many other instruments of severe torture could easily be destroyed, and others as easily procured. There is reason to believe that tbe most important records -were burnt as soon as the Dominicans apprehended that the Roman people would once more make a forcible entrance into the palace. The non-appearance of instruments is not enough to sustain the current belief that the use of them is discontinued. So long as there is a secret prison, and while all the existing standards of Inquisitorial practice make torture an ordinary expedient for extorting information, not even a Bull prohibiting torture would be sufficient to convince the world that it has been discontinued. The practice of falsehood is enjoined on inquisitors. How, then, could we believe a Bull, or a Decree, if it were put forth to-morrow, to release them from suspicion, or to screen them from obloquy? It would not be entitled to belief.

of the victims of Inquisitorial executions. Another object of horror I found between the great hall of judgment and the luxurioiis apartment of the Chief Jailer (Prima Custode), the Dominican friar who presides over this diabolical establishment. This was a deep trap, a shaft opening into the vaults under the Inquisition. As soon as tho so-calledciiminal had confessed his offence, the second keeper, who is always a Dominican friar, sent him to the Father Commissary to receive a relaxation* of his punishment. With hope of pardon, the confessed culprit would go towards the apartment of the Holy Inquisitor; but in the act of setting foot at its entrance, the trap opened, and the world of the living heard no more of him. I examined some of the earth found in the pit below this trap: it was a compost of common earth, rottenness, ashes, and human hair—fetid to the smell, and horrible to the sight and to the thought of the beholder.

"But where popular fury reached its highest pitch was in the vaults of Saint Pius V. I am anxious that you should note well that this Pope was canonized by the Roman Church especially for his zeal against heretics. I will now describe to you the manner how, and the place where, those vicars of Jesus Christ handled the living members of Jesus Christ, and show you how they proceeded for their healing. You descend into the vaults by very narrow stairs. A nar

* In Spain, relaxation is delivery to death. In the established style of the Inquisition, it has the same meaning. But in the common language of Rorne it means release. In the lips of the Inquisitor, therefore, if he used the word, it has one meaning, and another to the ear of the prisoner.

row corridor leads you to the several cells, which, for smallness and stench, are a hundred times more horrible than the dens of lions and tigers in the Colosseum. Wandering in this lahyriuth of most fearful prisons, that may be called ' graves for the living,' I came to a cell full of skeletons without skulls, buried in lime; and the skulls, detached from the bodies, had been collected in a hamper by the first visitors. Whose were those skeletons? And why were they huried in that place and in that manner? I have heard some Popish ecclesiastics, trying to defend the Inquisition from the charge of having condemned its victims to a secret death, say that the palace of the Inquisition was built on a burialground belonging, anciently, to a hospital for pilgrims, and that the skeletons found were none other than those of pilgrims who had died in that hospital. But everything contradicts this papistical defence. Suppose that there had been a cemetery there, it could not have had subterranean galleries and cells, laid out with so great regularity; and even if there had been such—against all probahility—the remains of bodies would have been removed on laying the foundations of the palace, to leave the space free for the subterranean part of the Inquisition. Besides, it is contrary to the use of common tomhs to bury the dead by carrying them through a door at the side; for the mouth of the sepulchre is always at the top. And, again, it has never been the custom in Italy to bury the dead, singly, in quicklime; but, in time of plagues, the dead hodies have been usually laid in a grave until it was sufficiently full, and then quick-lime has been laid over them to prevent pestilential exhalations by hastening the decomposition of the infected corpses. -This custom was continued, some years ago, in the cemeteries of Naples, and especially in the daily burial of the poor. Therefore, the skeletons found in the Inquisition of Rome could not belong toqperson s who had died a natural death in a hospital; nor could any one, under such a supposition, explain the mystery of all the body being buried in lime, with the excep

tion of the head. It remains, then, beyond doubt, that that subterranean vault contained the victims of one of the many secret martyrdoms of the butcherly Tribunal. The following is the most probable opinion, if it be not rather the history of a fact.

"The condemned were immersed in a bath of slaked lime, gradually filled up to their necks. The lime, by littlo and little, inclosed the sufferers, or walled them up all alive. The torment was extreme, but slow. As the lime rose higher and higher, the respiration of the victims became more and more painful, because more difficult. So that, what with the suffocation of the smoke, and the anguish of a compressed breathing, they died in a manner most horrible and desperate. Some time after their death, the heads would naturally separate from the bodies, and roll away into the hollows left by the shrinking of the lime. Any other explanation of the fact that may be attempted will be found improbable and unnatural.

"You may make any use of these notes of mine, in your publication, that you please, since I can warrant their truth. I wish that writers, speaking of this infamous (tribunal of the Inquisition, would derive their information from pure history, unmingled with romance; for so many and so great are the historical atrocities of the Inquisition, that they would more than suffice to arouse the detestation of a thousand worlds. I know that the Popish impostorpriests go about saying that the Inquisition was never an ecclesiastical tribunal, but a laic. But you will have shown the contrary in your work, and may also add, in order quite tounmaskthoselyingpreachers, that the palace of the Inquisition at Rorne is under the shadow of the palace of the Vatican; that the Keepers of the Inquisition at Borne are, to this day, Dominican friars; and that the Prefect of the Inquisition at Rome is the Pope in person. "I have the honour to be, "Your affectionate Servant, "Alessandro Gavazzi."

[This letter is taken from W. Rule's "Brand of Dominic." Page 271.]


We must pay special attention to the children and young people connected with our schools, and the families composing our congregations. They are the chief hope of our Churches, and from them each year should yield large accessions to the number of converted and useful members. A few years exhaust the entire energy of a Church of old people, which has not been invigorated by continual infusion of the youth of both sexes. Shall we, then, as a people, see our Churches becoming infirm and powerless, in a few years; or shall we have an everblooming, vigorous, and healthy community, with its ranks recruited yearly from the youthful portion of society? There is, there can be, no hesitancy on this point. All agree that the latter is essential and must be secured. But how?

Let preachers and people look after the small children, with special solicitude. Too little attention is paid to children by the ministers of every denomination. The importance of it is not felt and understood as it should be by us. Only a few short years elapse, and the little ones who bashfully cling to their mother's gown when a stranger speaks to them become transformed to men and women, who walk the earth as joint sovereigns of nature, and in their turn uphold the tottering steps of age and wield the destinies of earth.

The confidence and esteem of little children cannot be too highly valued by the Christian pastor. He cannot be too careful to secure and cultivate it. It has nothing of the cold, calculating cautiousness, that often distinguishes the friendship of maturer years.

But what is it that distinguishes their love that is so peculiar? I answer, it is pure and guileless as

the love of angels; it is spontaneous o.i the out-breaking of the mountain rill, when the icy grasp of winter is loosened by the warm breath of spring; it is abiding, and changeless. Time and distance may separate the Ciristian pastor and the lambs of his flock; but ever will be found, in manhood's prime, or woman's loveliness, the pure love of the little child, now grown to dignified and firm attachment, for the minister of Christ.

At the present period there are thousands of men and women, who were children a few years ago. In many instances, where the little ones were taught by the preacher to consider themselves the special objects of his caro, they are found within the circle of our Churches and congregations, firmly rooted and grounded in the principles there advocated. But far otherwise is it with many hundreds, and it may be thousands, of them. And why? Because they were scarce noticed. They saw no exhibition of love for children. Love is reciprocal, and they only love who are conscious of being beloved.

But our love for children must prompt to the use of means for their religious instruction as they advance in life. Ministers cannot indeed do all themselves, but they may originate plans for doing much, by employing the time and energies of others. Our intelligent lay friends, both male and female, can and must help in this great work. They must be willing to spare a few hours in the week for conducting Bible classes and meetings preparatory to Church fellowship, for the special spiritual welfare of our children and young people. Ministers will visit them from time to time in their juvenile circles, and encourage them by their presence, their counsels, and prayers.

Advice is like snow, the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.

Family worship serves as an edge or border to preserve the web of life from unravelling.

Truth is not only a man's ornament, but his instrument; it is the great man's glory, and the poor man's stock; a man's truth is his livelihood, his recommendation, his letters of credit.


He loveth truth, therefore he liveth

it; and because he liveth it, he

understandeth it: For him it hath the fewer difficulties

—a seeker for truth rather than a

searcher for error. He hath stedfastly set the face of

his heart Godward, And hath not slammed the door of

conscience against his convictions; Vice hath not made unbelief a necessity, nor the love of evil rendered

truth incomprehensible: Therefore love is light within him,

right feeling hath ripened into

true thought, And from his Bible and his intellect

he striketh out cheering sparks of

light continually.

He hath the habit of worship: his heart still kneeleth to the good and the true.

Therefore he prayeth always, everywhere; with his lips much, in his life more:

Patiently, for his Father is wisdom, and delays are not always denials:

Submissively also, for how often are requests unwise, and desires ruinous!

He worshippeth in his family, and also in the social assembly;

But his temple is everywhere, and his oratory anywhere.

He forgetteth not that a godly life is itself no mean prayer,

That high efforts are burnt-offerings,

good works no despicable means

of grace, And holiness and service—are they

not the truest worship? Therefore he grafteth on devotion

devotedness, and laboureth to do

good; He remembereth he is not only God's

son but his servant; And shineth as well as burnetii in

his orbit, though its cycle be no

largo one.

Grave and earnest is he, for when

was trifier useful or great? Therefore is he intent on being,

rather than on knowing, getting,

or doing. To him every meal is a sacrament,

any day a solemn Sabbath; Yet his is no cloistered piety, he is

neither sour nor ascetic; He is no austere anchorite, and fast

eth from little except sin: For his seriousness is without gloom,

and his religiousness graceful and

happy. If his virtue is awful as an angel's,

it is unpretending as a child's; Any season is his gladsome Easter

—he weareth always the surplice

of song.

[From an "Idea of a Christian," by S. IV. Partridge.]'


Amidst other intellectual pursuits in which happiness has been sought, the career ot the poet may be adverted to. His delights lie in the cultivation of an elegant imagination, and in the enjoyment of those pleasures which can only be tasted by a mind of a refined order and delicate structure. When the poet's talent has been directed to the glory of God, it has proved to be ono eminently profitable and delightful. When cultivated in a worldly spirit, however, experience has shown by more than one painful instance that a highly-gifted bard may be a miserable man. The wretched life of

Savage, the friend of Johnson, will be familiar to the student of English literature. The course of Chattertou is not less mournful. Full of youthful promise, he repaired to London, to commence, as he expected, a successful literary career. "What a glorious prospect awaits me!" he wrote on his arrival: yet within a few months he was buried as a common pauper from Shoe-lane workhouse. Equally sad associations are connected with the poet Bums. "Save me from the horrors of a jail,•' werealmost his last words. "It will be some time," he wrote in his final illness, " before T tune my lyre again.

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