Mr. Prescott speaks on this subject yet more strongly than Dr. Robertson. But in Spain a contrary line of conduct was pursued to that which was exhibited in England. With us, nobles and commons, if sometimes opposed, have generally acted together. Each has taken its own place in government, and neither has sought to deprive the other of its privileges. And, happily, the equality of all before the law has rendered the privileges of orders practicable without injury. But in Spain, the Crown was enabled to employ one order in putting down another. The work formally began under Ferdinand and Isabella, and was completed under their grandson Charles the Fifth. At first, the nobles were attacked, and gladly did the commons aid in humbling them. In revenge, the nobles sided with the Crown in its contests with the commons. The result was, the way was opened for the Monarch of Spain to become the absolute King. The treasures of the New World rendered him independent of taxation. But it was spiritual tyranny that fixed the keystone in the arch. The people of Spain, as the vassals of Rome, became slaves in soul. The King gave the Priests the power they asked. Had he denied them, they would have proclaimed the rights of the people, and encouraged rebellion. This is the secret of the seeming liberalism of Rome in Protestant countries. There is no love for liberty. But there is a steady purpose to weaken a Protestant government. The Monarchs of Spain allowed the spiritual despotism of the Priests; and the grateful Priests assisted to establish the political despotism of the Sovereign. The two, as it were, divided the country between them.

THE PRINCIPLES LEADING TO THE ERECTION OF RELIGIOUS HOUSES, AND TO THE ASSUMPTION OF THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER, (AS MONKS OR nuns,)

ILLUSTRATED.

The "piety of our ancestors" in the erection of those costly and splendid edifices, which are still so highly admired as monuments of architectural taste and skill, is often eulogised. That it was sincere, the large, the almost prodigal, expenditure to which it prompted, abundantly proves; but sincerity says nothing as to the degree of scriptural enlightenment. There may be, in the midst of decided error, a sincere persuasion that the belief is correct. The costliness of the sacrifices that were made proves the sincerity: a reference of the whole proceeding to the only perfect standard of truth, the word of God, places the error beyond question. The histories and biographies of the Middle Ages are perpetually furnishing illustrations. Mrs. Green's researches have enabled her to place several before her readers. In their principles, indeed, they have no novelty. They are all developments of the same germ. Each, nevertheless, is so far new as that it comes associated with its own modifying circumstances; and the number, and different conditions, of the persons implicated, evince the depth to which the error had penetrated in what might almost be termed the religious life of society, its strong hold on public conviction, and a diffusion through the vast masses that were subjected to its power so thoroughly pervasive, that scarcely a single atom could escape. The following statements refer to Alphonso, King of Castile, who had married Eleanora, the second daughter of Henry the Second, King of England. On the 19th of July, 1195, on the plains of Alcarcos, an immense host of Moors awaited, in battle-array, the attack of their Spanish opponents. Alphonso had been disappointed by his brother-monarchs of Leon and Navarre, who, from motives of jealousy, withheld their promised aid, so

that the band of Christian warriors was comparatively small, and fearfully disproportionate to the Mohammedans. The more experienced Generals advised that the battle should be postponed till reinforcements should arrive; but

"There were others who, impatient to display their valour, argued that it would be far more glorious to attack the enemy single handed, than to have their dangers and triumphs shared by others. And this gallant, but fatal, counsel prevailed. The armies joined battle, and the Christian host, which scarcely numbered one to ten with the swarms of its opponents, was almost swept away from the face of the ground. Fifty thousand are reported to have been slain in the fight, but it is doubtful whether the whole army amounted to that number. The town of Alcarcos was taken; and so completely was it destroyed by the Arabs, that only part of the cathedral of Notre Dame was left standing, which Mariana tells us still remained in his day, and was resorted to with pilgrim reverence by the inhabitants, on account of its connexion with a day so disastrous." (P. 280.) "Great was the consternation that pervaded all classes of the people when the news of the terrible discomfiture became known. The dejection of Alphonso himself was deep in proportion to the buoyant exhilaration with which he had entered upon a war from which he had hoped so much; and it was fully shared by his loving consort. With that reverent recognition of the guiding hand of a superintending Providence regulating human affairs, in itself so just and true, yet so wofully misapplied by the superstitious notions of the day, in which every criminal act was believed to be followed by punishment more or less immediate in this life, and every act of virtue by a corresponding reward, Queen Leonor attributed the ill-success of her spouse to the displeasure of heaven for some neglect of religious duty; and persuaded him to atone for all past misdemeanours by the erection of a monastery for Cistercian Nuns near Burgos, where the royal family had now retired. The stately fabric of the Huelgas, consecrated to the Virgin Mary, was accordingly raised. The prelude of the foundation-charter runs thus:-'I, Don Alfonso, by the grace of God King of Castile, and my wife, the Queen Donna Leonor, with consent of our daughters Berenguela and Uraca, desiring to atone for our sins, that we may hereafter have a place among the saints,' &c. The charter goes on to endow the abbey with rich revenues and extensive possessions, that the holy virgins dedicated to God might day and night chant their sacred services, and feel no want nor deficiency, but in these cloistered walls, and within the precincts of the church, might, free from worldly care, constantly delight themselves in holy contemplations and praises.' Nor was this all. The King and Queen also erected a very extensive hospital near the monastery, where all pilgrims were to be received and hospitably entertained for a day and a night; and those that were sick were to remain there, with all proper provision for their wants, and with pious women to nurse and tend them until they were completely recovered. These benevolent acts call forth the most lavish expressions of admiration from the monkish chroniclers of Spain, who do not hesitate to promise to Alphonso and Leonor every possible happiness for this world, as well as crowns of eternal life, in reward for their munificent benefactions." (P. 283.)

We do not judge individuals. Gladly would we believe that, under all the errors of their creed, principles of true piety animated both the Spanish Monarch and the English Princess his consort; so that through the merit of that Infinite Atonement which their words dishonoured, but in which their

hearts found ultimate repose, they had acceptance for themselves and their offerings. But systems we may judge; systems we ought to judge. It is the duty of Christian believers to walk in truth as well as in love; and this system of gigantic error, prompting as it does to expiatory almsgivings, was often as destructive of charity as it was of truth. Remorse and severe bodily austerities were put in the place of repentance unto life; and instead of the broken heart and contrite spirit, always connected with a tender mercy to others, forgiving as it seeks forgiveness, the whole soul was rendered uncompassionate and revengeful, and they who punished sin in themselves, punished it without pity in others. Monasteries were founded under this system, and thousands had their wants supplied. Yes, and this system caused Auto-da-fé to follow Auto-da-fé with horrible speed and frequency. Holy virgins chanted with delight the sacred services. And thousands of Jews and Moors and Protestants, after heart-rending groans in prison and on the rack, expired in agony amidst the consuming flames. Superstition can be compassionate and bountiful: she can likewise be ruthless and cruel. The artistic grandeur of her edifices, the ostentatious profusion of her benefactions, may be admired by a romantic imagination, and lauded by a latitudinarianism which exults over repudiated truth; but, that her true character may be known, let her wholesale slaughters be likewise remembered; let history, grieving but faithful, bear testimony to the hundreds of thousands of her cruelly-murdered victims.

(To be continued.)

ANOTHER GLANCE AT INDIA.

If you look to India, (said Dr. DUFF, in addressing the late General Assembly of the Free Church,) you will find that it is not the small thing which some people at home seem to suppose, into which mistake our geographies have too often misled us. In our common atlases, India is put down on a scale occupying not a much larger space than Scotland; and children are apt to suppose that, the same space being assigned to India in the map as to Scotland, this indicates the same extent. But, to bring this matter to a bearing, it has been my own endeavour carefully to go over the best maps of Europe; and the conclusion at which I have arrived is, that, in point of territorial extent, British India is now equal to the whole of Europe, excepting Russia; and that, not only in extent is it equal, but it is also nearly equal to it in the number of its inhabitants. And when you bear in mind this fact, you ought to be more impressed than ever with the magnitude of the work before us. India is a continent. It is not a little country, nor even a little island like your Great Britain; but a continent, and a continent of infinite diversities. Many think of India as if it were a little bit of land, homogeneous in its climate, in its soil, and in its inhabitants; but there is not on the face of the earth a continent, whether in its climate, its soil, or its people, more heterogeneous. You have there specimens of all the soils on the face of the globe, from the rich alluvial deposits of Bengal, to the arid districts and regions of the Sutledge. You have there all kinds of weaving and clothing of trees and verdure, and no clothing at all. Towards Cape Comorin the hills are covered with majestic forests; while to the north of the Indus, from the top to the bottom of the hills, not only is there no forest, no bush, no shrub, but there is not even the appearance of the minutest imaginable plant ever heard of under the sun. There

everything looks as if it had been scorched and burned up amidst some mighty conflagration of nature. In the lowest flats of Bengal the soil is in many places below the level of the sea, which is kept out by embankments, as in Holland. Then you have towering above you the highest eminences in the world—the Himalayas-shooting up some of their summits thirty thousand feet into the sky; and if you stand and look at these giants on the face of the earth, you are struck with wonder and amazement. If you look at them at a little distance from the plain, then you see ranges rising up, one above the other. Looking at the lower range first, it resembles your own Grampians, as viewed from the valley of Strathmore in Perthshire. Again, behind that, you have another range some seven or eight thousand feet high. Beyond the second you have a third towering up amidst everlasting snows, and peering into the clouds, or above the clouds. And then, when you look from the plain at this stupendous scene in the evening, as the sun is setting, you see, when the first range is darkened as with night, the second range still illumined with the blaze of the sun; and when it, in its turn, becomes darkened, you have still these dazzling masses of snow; and then, again, when the sun gets far below your horizon, you have a light tinge of purple, which gradually deepens into scarlet or crimson. Then again, when the sun has disappeared from these unscalable heights, and the roseate blush is gone, it is instantly succeeded by a greenish pale, like the ghastliness of a countenance in the grasp of death-like one blooming as the rose of summer, then the next moment a stricken corpse. And then when you get up on the second range, somewhere about seven or eight thousand feet above the level of the plains, ah! then to see the sun rising in the morning in these sharp points beyond, for many of them are as sharp as needles,-they look like glittering diamonds or stars in the dark-blue azure above; and then, as the sun rises higher, the brilliancy descends like liquid fire pouring down, until all is one gorgeous scene. Then, when you look to the north towards Cashmere, it would seem to the eye of sense as if there it was, not a vision of the fancy only, but something like a celestial city or fortress of measureless extent, dropped down from the skies,-a city or fortress with gigantic walls, bulwarks, and towers, with domes and pillars, pinnacles and spires, as if the very bulwarks of infinity,-the muniments of the Unchangeable, -the very palace and city of the eternal King. These everlasting summits of snow are supposed to be the abodes of the principal Hindu gods. They are supposed to be the veritable Olympuses of Hindustan; and the multitudes in the plains beneath look up to those hills, as to the hills from whence their help is to come......When you look to these people, you find the varieties among them are immense; but to this it would be endless to refer. The great body of the people are Hindus; but there are diversities among them which it would require hours to describe. Besides these Hindus, you have the fierce, fiery Mahommedans, and numbers of nondescript tribes of different manners, language, and pursuits. You have the philosophical Brahmin, the subtle and learned Pantheist, and the exquisitely-subtle Moulavi; and you may go downwards to infinite stupidities in the masses of the people, who are ground down to the very dust. I say infinite stupidities, because many think that we have to deal with a homogeneous people....... You have at least one hundred and fifty millions of them entirely accessible!

VOL. VI.-FOURTH SERIES.

3 л

CHAPTERS ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE.-No. IV.

THE REWARDS OF PATIENT SUFFERING.

"THE Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice." Though "clouds and darkness are round about Him," yet "righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His throne." There are many mysteries in the dispensations of His providence; yet all things work together for good to them that love Him. God does not intend that man should understand everything that occurs in the history of this world; at least, until the great day of the revelation of all things. We must learn to "walk by faith, not by sight." We are assured that our greatest afflictions are allotted with a merciful design, and that present suffering is sent to work out an enduring good. The tornado which rends the tropical sky, and sweeps the landscape with terrific blast,-appalling the stoutest heart, and destroying the labour of many days, is yet a messenger of Divine mercy to the human race. While it loudly proclaims Jehovah's anger against sin, and tells man what a helpless worm of earth he is, it also purifies the atmosphere of noxious vapours, and causes vegetation to spring forth in teeming verdure. It may appear to be a curse; but it is a general blessing. It destroys a little, but produces much good. If we think only of the present terror and wildness and havoc of the storm, we tremble and mourn; but if we reflect upon its kindly results, we are filled with adoring praise and gratitude. So the Christian is taught "in everything to "give thanks;" to bless the Lord at all times, and in all circumstances; to praise Him not only when the gentle zephyr wafts his vessel in peace and prosperity, but when the gales of adversity blow the fiercest, rending the sails, clearing the deck, and even dismantling the ship.

It is not our present object to show the connexion between earthly suffering and future joy; nor to explain how the trials of life, when sanctified by Divine grace, tend to purify the soul, and prepare it for an eternal weight of glory. It is, indeed, an important consideration, and well calculated to sustain our spirit under the pressure of greatest distress, that we may make the very trials of life subservient to our highest interests, and, by the fleeting labours of time, lay up treasures of eternal joy. Even the adverse winds of life may help us onward in our course to the haven of perfect peace.

But Providence often awards an earthly recompense to patient suffering. The trial of our faith is precious in the sight of God; and, when it has passed through the fire, and become pure and bright by the refining process, it is sometimes formed into a vessel of honour for this world, as well as for the world to come. This will be the case only when the Refiner's object, in putting it into the furnace, has been answered. When affliction does not promote the purifying of the heart or the glory of God, it becomes a failure it is so much suffering endured in vain. But, if it be rightly improved, it may qualify for the safe enjoyment of a greater amount of temporal prosperity. Memory will easily recall the history of many excellent men, who had to endure a great fight of affliction in the early part of their career, but to whom Providence vouchsafed a serene and prosperous old age. The morning of their day was gloomy and chequered; but, after their sun had reached his strength, he went down in a clear firmament, and set in a cloudless sky of blushing honour.

This is a dispensation of Providence which ought to be well considered