demned taking any interest upon loans, which it has always, in its anathemas, regarded or treated as being the same as usury.

"It is supremely or absolutely unjust," says Lactance, "to exact more than has been given or lent."

“Lending at interest is never permitted or allowable," says Saint Thomas, "not even within the limit of what is necessary for

living."

Usury is but a variety of robbery," says Saint Bernard.

"Receivers of interest," Saint Augustine maintains, dare to say that they have no other resource for their living; and is not that the very excuse or reply which would be made by a robber taken in the fact?"

"It is usury," says the Conncil of Agde, "when anyone takes more than the same person has given or lent.”

"Let the usurers," says the Council of Elirra, "be cast forth from the Church."

"Let usury be punished as heretical," resumes the Council of Vienna.

Finally comes Bossuet to crown the invariable or unbroken tradition of the Church by the following declaration, which we the more charitably recommend to Poitiers Street, because its own security is at stake if it have any funds put out upon mortgages.

66

"Thence it is settled," says Bossuet, "in what usury consists, since the law clearly determines that it is the surplus which is given over and above the loan, or that which exceeds what has been lent; and according to our language, whatever is above the amount of the capital." Nobody in the Church has ever contradicted or challenged or objected to these decrees. On the contrary, people have submitted to them as they always do to the things which are determined by the written tradition of the fathers, by councils, even general councils, and by decretals of the popes, accepted and authorised by the consent of all the Church. Thus, then, the spirit of Christianity always exists in believing that the prohibition of usury inflicted by the law was obligatory under the Gospels and that our Lord had confirmed that law."

After the above citations, we cannot conceive how the pamphlet of M. Nettement, unless it be more inspired of the Holy Ghost than Lactance, than St. Jerome, than St. Bernard, than St. Augustine, than Bossuet, than the Popes, than the councils, than the decretals, than the traditions, in a word, than the Church can escape from the reproach or reprobation of heresy.

We see, then, that this forced association of Christ and of Cæsar in order to save society from common charges for the same soldiers and the same chiefs, has only resulted in making Cæsar be contradicted by Christ, and in making Christ be contradicted by Cæsar.

"Interest of money is sacred," says Mr. Thévis; "interest of money is heretical," says M. Montalembert. On which side does Poitiers Street range itself? Because, even if it have the gift of miracles, we defy it to reconcile, upon this grave question (which tacitly comprehends in it all communism), its notions of property with its notions of religion.

Of all impossibilities the most impossible would be to endeavour to bind together in the bands of the same unity, Christianity, which is the prayer or desire of poverty, with accumulation which is the desire or wish of riches or wealth.

(To be continued.)

THE LETTER TO THE “WORKING MAN."
[From the Secular World.]

TO THE EDITOR OF THE "SECULAR WORLD."

SIR,-In the Reasoner some little time ago, Mazzini was charged with what A. T. now charges him with in the Working Man. Your defence of him then, as now, to me is more of an apology than a defence. I do not say that you are not right in what you say for Mazzini. As a counseller to the Italian youth, should he not be specific and definite in his counsels? In his censures should he not be direct and pointed? His vague accusations lie against all. The logical may meet them by saying they do not apply to us. But what is the impression made upon the great bulk of the people. Mazzini is a man of courage. Let him put his accusations in an unmistakable form. He can then be met. Much irritation will be prevented, and the Italian youth will have a guide. Now, their suspicions are only excited.

Kossuth, in his speeches in his American tour, as presented by Professor Newman, is open to a similar charge. He constantly appeals to the prejudices of the religious world against sceptics and free inquiry generally; thus showing that his political reforms have not for their basis unshackled freedom.

One courageous American had the manliness to denounce these appeals at the conclusion of one of his speeches. Both in Mazzini and Kossuth, Nationality, not Universal Brotherhood, seem to be their ideal.-Yours truly, Derby, May 30, 1862. HENRY CLARK.

[This correspondent, who writes after reading the letter in the Working Man, cannot be met by any further remarks of ours, having said in reply to A. T. what we consider obviated the objection he put. All we can say to H. C. is, that the eminent foreigners he names regard oppressors and dishonest politicians as practical atheists. A man whose belief is right, but whose life is bad, they call an atheist-but this they never intend to apply to those whose belief in their opinion is wrong, but whose lives are right. This is so constantly done by foreign writers, that it is now well understood.-ED. S. W.]

THE LATE REFORM CONFERENCE. Of this sham the Manchester Examiner says "The working classes can only be roused to action by some sonorous, comprehensive cry. They know what the Charter means; they know what universal suffrage means; but a political sliding scale which measures rights by rental, and recognises a sovereign specific for integrity and intelligeuce, in six pounds, half puzzles and half disgusts them." The Examiner is nearly right, but the working classes understand the "puzzle" and are completely gusted" at the oft-repeated attempts made to cajole them into schemes intended to promote middle-class ascendancy. The "comprehensive cry," too, will come, and it will be for social right and political justice. Of this we are certain,

"dis

TRUE CO-OPERATION.

THERE are, fortunately, in the world some men who seem to be born co-operators, that is to say to do what they can for their fellow-men, and even in the smallest affair that disposition can be shown. Here is an example which we are glad to notice for two reasons-first, because it deserves encouragement; second, because the publication of the recipe given may prove useful to some of our readers. Some other men would have been satisfied to have paid for the prescription which did him good-not so this one. Are we wrong to call this true co operation ?

We extract the following from the Secular World:

INFORMATION TO INVALIDS.

[Having experienced himself great advantages from the prescription here given, the possessor desires its promulgation for the benefit of sufferers who have not the advantage of being able to obtain the expensive advice of eminent physicians. We took the recipe to the shop of a chemist of repute, and asked him what he thought of it. He said it "was really a good thing, and thouroughly agreeable to take." There is this risk about publishing any recipe, that it may be misused by a patient, or it may be actually inapplicable. In the case of this one, the inapplicability is hardly likely to occur, as the affections to which it applies are not easily mistaken. The safe rule for any person using a public prescription is to submit it to his usual medical attendant, who, unless it is positively injurious, will be likely to permit its use. In this case the name of the gentleman who sends it, and that of the physician who is responsible for the recipe, are sufficient guarantees of its genuineness and its value.]

Barkway, Herts, 12 May, 1862.

If people wish to protect the throat and chest, from diseases of many kinds, let them take one or two teaspoonfuls of the Elixir, given in the Note below, as often as any feeling of uneasiness in the throat occurs; and, as a safeguard to the throat and chest, during the night especially-let them take, at least, one teaspoonful the last thing at night.

More than twenty years since the above prescription to cure a cold, was given to me by an eminent Physician, still flourishing in London, I am glad to be able to add. Luckily I did not throw this prescription into the fire, as one generally does with Doctor's MSS.

Having found it useful for curing a cold-the next time I felt a cold coming on, I had recourse to the same prescription, and I soon discovered that this Elixir, when taken in due time, acts as a, nearly, complete safeguard to the throat and chest, and prevents many sorts of complaints, which originate, or which have their seat, in the throat and in the respiratory organs.

I have had printed, and I have distributed, several thousand copies of this "Throat Elixir," and I have good reason for believing that the use of it has saved my life many times during the course of the last twenty years, and that many persons have been spared a great deal of suffering by having had recourse to it.

The Registrar-General lately made a very eloquent appeal to the world in general (not to the Board of Health-not to the Medical Profession) in these words:"One hundred and forty thousand of the inhabitants of these islands die every year of preventible disease."

He then asks

"Who will deliver the nation from these terrible enemies?"

Herewith I present my humble contribution towards this grand object.

HENRY CLINTON,

Syrup of Tolu

The measures are in fluid ounces. One teaspoonful a dose.

ONLY one week had elapsed since the occurrence of the events narrated in the last chapter; but in that short period what a crowd of conflicting joys, hopes, agonies, and fears have been compressed.

The Millicents had been removed to the comfortable apartments prepared for them at the old gardener's, and already Mary had begun to rejoice in returning indications of health and cheerfulness in her father, who managed to get out for an hour or two each day in the garden, to his easy chair, placed by Donald, whose opinion was that "a blink o' the bonnie sunshine, and a breath o' God's ain air, were worth all the doctor's muck that ever was brewed."

Millicent and Donald soon became fast friends. The poor weaver who in younger and more prosperous days had had quite a passion for flowers, and had cultivated a few even in the smoky purlieus of Bethnal Green with no ordinary success, could talk, as Donald would remark, "like a rational man, and not like some puir creeturs that did'na seem to ken a cowslip from a cactus." Whilst Mary with her quiet diligence and neat handy way's was in high favour with Donald's wife, who, as a general rule, had little either of affection or patience for the race of modern lassies, who, she declared, "din'ha even ken how to begin a day's work, and who did'na care how much dirt they carried under a smart ribbon or a bit o' trumpery lace.

But whilst to the tenants of the pretty cottage one short week had wrought a change so full of hope and gladness, a dark and terrible cloud had gathered over the inmates of Athol Lodge, threatening the existence of its young and lovely mistress. Helen was dangerously ill. In the midst of blooming health and youthful vigour, she had been struck down by a malignant fever, to the contagion of which she had exposed herself in visiting a poor family in the village. She had given slight heed to the first warning symptoms of the insidious disease, and when her father's watchful eye had detected, a day or two previously, a flush upon her cheek and a drooping languor in her eyes, she replied to his anxious enquiries that she was only suffering from a headache, the result of a little over-exertion, and that she was sure a day's rest would put all to rights again. When, however, her father had gone to town, and Helen was vainly seeking by repose to still the throbbing in her burning temples, a quiet step glided into the shaded room, and Mary Millicent, whose counsel Helen's maid had sought, saw at once, from sad experience in the progress of the disorder,

that the case was one requiring immediate and urgent measures. Gently, but firmly, she insisted upon assuming the privilege and authority of Helen's nurse; and having seen her placed in bed, she despatched a messenger for medical assistance, whilst she administered such simple precautionary remedies as her knowledge of the disease suggested. Her worst fears were too sadly confirmed by her first glance at the doctor's face after he had examined his patient. Satisfied from the judicious steps which had been adopted previous to his arrival that Mary's judgment might be relied on, he did not hesitate at once to confide to her his opinion that the case was a serious and alarming one, requiring energetic treatment and the most watchful and assiduous care. Having prescribed the immediate remedies to be applied, and despatched a note to Mr. Angus, acquainting him with his daughter's condition, he remained for some time by his patient's bedside; and when he left he confided Helen to Mary's especial care, impressing upon her his conviction that much of her prospect of recovery depended upon the rigorous observance of his directions in nursing her. And never surely was such a charge confided to a more earnest, loving, devoted heart; one better qualified by every sentiment of affection and gratitude to fulfil so important a trust.

In forty-eight hours how sad a change had come over the radiant and blooming Helen. The fierce fever spot had now succeeded to the rosy hue of health; the eye, no longer the index of the bright intelligence within, drooped lustreless beneath its hue, or glared fiercely under the excitement of temporary delirium. The rich auburn tresses had all been removed, and incessant applicatsons of ice were applied to relieve the fever-heated brain. The ablest advice which London could afford had been called in, and every remedy which skill could suggest having been tried, all were waiting with that intense anxiety of suspense, which only bedside watchers have known, the termination of the crisis upon which hangs so precious a life.

The struggle was long and terrible, and for many days Helen lay prostrate and unconscious, so utterly reduced, indeed, that it seemed only wonderful by what power nature could be sustained under such protracted exhaustion.

Throughout this period of agonizing suspense, which Mr. Angus had passed in a state of mental suffering bordering on despair, no entreaties could induce Mary to resign for a single hour her post at Helen's bedside. If for a few minutes she yielded to an overpowering drowsiness and slept, it was with that watchful slumber that woke at the faintest movement of the object of her solicitude; and so complete was her self-command, that though her own anxiety and distress at the thought of losing her benefactress was scarcely less than that of Mr. Angus himself, yet, feeling the importance of sustaining her own strength to the utmost, she endeavoured to suppress every emotion, in the one thought of insuring the most minute attention to every possible contingency of so precious a trust.

For some hours the lamp of life flickered in its socket, and it was difficult at times to distinguish between the sleep of exhausted nature and the sleep of death. At length, however, the vigour of a naturally fine constitution prevailed, and Mary was the first to catch the faint smile of recognition that passed over Helen's countenance, as she woke from a short but refreshing slumber, and thus indicated returning consciousness; whilst a slight pressure of her father's hand conveyed her sense of his presence. The trembling hope thus infused into Mr. Angus's heart was joyously confirmed by the medical attendants at their next visit. And now it only remained to guard with scrupulous care against every possibility of relapse, and to recruit poor Helen's shattered and exhausted frame.

(To be continued.)