IN N the north-eastern slope of the Tyrol, a fair and beautiful country drained by the upper waters and feeders of the mighty Danube, is placed the city of Salzburg. Now a land chiefly known to tourists for its narrow rocky gorges, with swift rushing streams and green peaceful valleys, it was a hundred and fifty years ago most interesting to Protestant Europe through the sufferings of a community of Protestants that inhabited the districts of which Salzburg is centre. Ever since the

Thirty Years' War there had dwelt in and around this city a peaceable, industrious Protestant population. Busy at wooden clock-making and agriculture, they had for successive generations lived undisturbed under the rule of Romanist Austria. One Archbishop of Salzburg after another had come and died, had known how these people felt and thought, but had charitably refrained from any persistent attempt to reduce them to the Roman obedience. But in 1727 there came a new archbishop, Archbishop Firmian, a man of that type of character that uses violence to secure religious conformity. Readers will have in their minds an idea of the kind of man that he was-zealous, but not discreet; a formalist, with exalted notions of Church authority. He was probably blind to the consequences of the course he began, and, with the fatuous confidence that so often possesses persecutors, fancied he could bend and turn others at his will.

Archbishop Firmian then soon started a persecution of these Protestants. Bibles and books of devotion were destroyed. The names of those that read the Bible were sent to the archbishop. He sent for them and tried to make them promise to cease Bible reading, and to accept only what the authorities taught. The people could not give this promise, and were committed to prison. Although very respectful in their replies, nevertheless, even in prison, they resolutely declined to obey the archbishop. Soon a cry to emigrate arose from amongst them. Why not sell their houses or lands and leave Salzburg, as they had a right to do by the Treaty of Westphalia? It is a curious trait in persecutors that they will not let their victims escape. Firmian declined to let his harassed subjects quietly depart, but called in the help of the Austrian Government, banished some of the people, and seized their property.

In 1730, the year after the outbreak of these troubles, deputies were sent to the

great German Diet, without much effect except that the report of the persecution spread far and wide. Failing effectual help from the Diet, the Salzburgers look elsewhere. Frederick William, the second King of Prussia, then ruled at Berlin; a man of capricious and arbitrary temper, but a staunch Protestant, and possessing abundance of firmness in dealing with opposition, and of sound sense in grappling practical difficulties. Two deputies are sent to him from Salzburg. Having satisfied himself that they were entitled to the protection of the Treaty of Westphalia, Frederick Williamı takes up their cause in a characteristic manner. He writes to the Emperor and to the Kings of England and Denmark. Moreover, he commences preparations to receive the emigrants; lands are prepared, houses built, farms surveyed. Anxious to secure his interest in furtherance of designs of his own, the Emperor intimated to Firmian that those who desired to leave must be let go. Hereupon the Archbishop began to eject them from their homes, though

it was the depth of winter. Nine hundred thus became homeless, but the King of Prussia was no lukewarm friend. He purposely shut up some monasteries and other religious houses in his own territory, and confiscated their incomes, plainly telling them that he would not remit his rigour till the persecution of the poor Salzburg Protestants ceased. Firmian was compelled to hold his hand, and there were henceforth no more forcible ejections.

It is pleasant to read of the benevolent designs of the King, and the careful way they were carried out under his scrupulous supervision. In his father's time a terrible pestilence had depopulated a part of Eastern Prussia. 'Fifty-two towns were more or less entirely depopulated; hundreds of thousands of fertile acres fell to waste again, the hands that had ploughed them being swept away," says Mr. Carlyle. It is to this land the Salzburgers are to go. Look at it on the map, and you will see their new friend and king means them to travel far. And now behold, in the days of February, 1732, they are upon their long journey. Three hundred, part doubtless of the nine hundred whom Firmian thrust forth in the wintry cold, are come to Nordlingen, a Protestant free town in Bavaria. Let us go out with all Nordlingen to meet them. There they are, men, and wives, and children, with carts and waggons. But listen, Herr Pasteur speaks to them, earnestly, solemnly, and invites them in. And so they enter our town, walking two and two, all Nordlingen flowing before, and around, and after them. In the town itself all is kindness and loving attention. Here they must bide some days, not too long for the townspeople, waiting the arrival of the Prussian commissary sent to take them to their new homes. This officer come, the caravan sets forward. At Erlangen, at Baireuth, wherever they pass through Protestant Germany, the people are deeply moved. Rich and poor, as they are able, join to meet their every want. Gifts of food and money are provided, and people are heard asking the commissary whether there was nothing else they could do. The route was wisely changed with other bands of the emigrants, so that the burden of hospitality did not fall too heavily on any one town, and the pleasure of doing good to these sufferers was granted to the inhabitants of many places.

On the 21st of April, 1732, the first body reached Halle, the first town in Prussia at which they would arrive. Here they were received with psalm-singing and prayer,

and, as elsewhere, people were eager to feed and lodge them. Nine days after they actually reached Berlin, and were met by the King himself. He welcomed more than one body of these pilgrims at the gates of his capital. The Queen asked some of them to her palace at Monbijou, and distributed Bibles amongst those whose Bibles Firmian had destroyed. Beyond Beyond Berlin there lay yet five hundred miles. Some took ship at Stettin, but many walked the whole distance. At last, arrived in Prussian Lithuania, they found houses, implements, land, stock, all in readiness to their hands. Considering the difficulties of the long journey, it is astonishing to reflect that no less than seventeen thousand souls emigrated from Salzburg to Prussian Lithuania.

English history of the last century is but dimly known amongst us, and that of the continental nations is almost a blank. This emigration is a fact that deserves to be widely known and to be seriously considered. First of all, as to the emigrants themselves; it is worth remembering that all these people should value their religion and their Bible so highly as to be ready to quit home, country, trade, all the scenes of infancy and childhood, their dear native land, to tramp hundreds of miles to an unknown land. How sound the teachings of faith, how firm the hold of evangelical principles, how loud the voice of conscience in their hearts! And how mighty the teaching which the Bible itself imparts even to the wayfaring man! They were literally leaving all for Christ's sake, like the French Huguenots, the Pilgrim Fathersyea, for that matter, like the apostles and early believers themselves. It has ever been so. In all ages God has had His witnesses. Looking all through the rather barren records of the last century, the most eminent witDesses we shall find are these simple, earnest, God-fearing men, tramping across a wide land in order that they may worship God as conscience dictates, and peacefully read His word. When we consider further that there was no alloy of wilfulness or defiance in their conduct, that they were ready in all temporal matters to respect the authority of their ruler, that their bearing to him was respectful, we shall allow that these men were rendering unto Cæsar his dues as conscientiously as they were refusing to give to him what belonged to God. If, indeed, we could find in their conduct any proof of a disloyal temper, our admiration would be much qualified.

The generosity of Protestant Germany, that

sheltered, fed, and relieved these pilgrims, is also not to be forgotten. Benevolence, under almost all circumstances, it is pleasant to hear of. But more especially is this the case if we find benevolence waiting upon judgment and directed by thoughtful intelligence. As the unfortunate victims of ill-treatment, the Salzburgers would have appealed to the generosity of any Christian population, but Germany felt a deep sympathy for them as the sufferers for a common faith. It was as brethren, beloved, that Germany received them. Religion was the spring of this loving sympathy, the source of this willing and large-hearted service towards those who were personally strangers, but brethren beloved in Christ. In the same spirit our ancestors held out loving hands towards the Flemings fleeing from Alva's Spaniards, and towards Huguenots escaped from the dragoonings of Louis XIV. It has been possible for Christianity, and for Christianity alone, so to subdue national jealousies that whole populations have been received with open arms by those to whom their tongues were strange, and their very names connected with long-enduring hostility and rivalry.

Last of all, it is most pleasant to note the King's share in this emigration. Frederick Williamn had such strange whims that he was the laughing-stock of his age. Writers have seized upon his peculiarities, and successive generations have laughed at him. But beneath all these surface eccentricities, there lay in him a sound, practical business faculty. To bring a peaceful and persecuted people to those waste fields and silent and deserted villages was a grand idea; but to carry out such an idea required power of organization and attention to details such as few possess. Having regard to the power and prosperity of his kingdom, the scheme proved a complete success. We should, however, be unjust to the King if we supposed that, foreseeing this, he was influenced by this consideration alone. He was a sincere champion of Protestantism, and the sufferings of the Salzburgers had touched his rugged heart. In spite, therefore, of obloquy and opposition, he set his plan into execution in a cool and methodical manner, and brought it, under God's manifest blessing, to a singularly triumphant conclusion.

F. CASE.

On rolls the shifting, surging crowd;

For He whose fame fills all men's breath E'en now will wake a child from death.

With noisy tongue and eager face, They throng the Rabbi in his place. "Should this be He whom God shall send?" "I know not; tarry till the end."

The sick, the impotent are there :
Mark those white eyeballs' sightless glare;
How sharply rings yon cripple's crutch!
Oh, stretch your hands, poor souls, and touch!

Reaching in faith a trembling hand,

Hath drawn from out His garment's hem Virtue disease's tide to stem.

Alas, alas! that ulcerous sin

Should throb and gnaw each heart within;
While only one sore-vexèd soul
Should hear, 'Thy faith hath made thee whole.'

Dear Lord, to-day Thy people meet, And throng in prayer Thy mercy-seat. Oh, whisper words of sweet release, Grant each to touch, and go in peace.