the Inquisition is now no more than a name; but it is a horrible name, and I question whether under the shadow of an evil name evil may not be committed. Such is the present situation of Rome. And is it not a most monstrous condition? If you wish for the very desirable reconciliation between Rome and the Papacy, it is necessary that this state of things should terminate: it is necessary, I repeat, that the pontiff should understand his people and his age; it is necessary that the living spirit of the Gospel should penetrate and crush the dead letter of all those institutions which have become barbarous. It is necessary that the Papacy should raise that double standard so dear to Italy-secularization and nationality. It is necessary that the Papacy should, I say, if she be unwilling to prepare for the event, yet so to conduct herself as not for ever to repress the high destinies which await the inevitable day of Italian freedom and unity. Lastly, it is necessary that the Papacy should guard against its worst

enemy; but that enemy is not the revolutionary spirit, it is the spirit of clerical despotism. The revolutionary spirit will only check the Papacy; the clerical spirit will annihilate it." The reader will, I am sure, excuse this long but very interesting quotation from the speech of Victor Hugo. Its effects on the French public are said to be great. All will admit that his character of the Inquisition is not too deeply coloured. Already it has proved, both to Dr. Achili, and no doubt to many others, something more than a "horrible name." Should this infernal engine remain in exercise, the whole civilized world will owe a debt of eternal indignation against the French Republic, for the part she has taken in its re-establishment.

It is my purpose to compress within the compass of one other paper all I have to say on the proceedings of the Peace Congress in Paris, and then to proceed with other matters, as before intimated. Pardon the above digression.

SWEET at every time is a benefit, but still more sweet when it is accompanied with surprise. Whilst a person of exalted rank was passing one morning early, unknown and quite alone, through one of the suburbs of Vienna, a youth, apparently about twelve years of age, accosted him, who, with downcast and tearful eyes, and with a timid and desponding voice, began to ask some relief. The genteel air, the composed bearing, the blush which coloured his face, the suppressed tears which bedimmed his eyes, and the faltering and broken accents of his voice, made on the mind of this gentleman a very lively impression.

"You have not," said he, "been born to ask alms; what is it that has brought you to this?"

"Ah! I was not certainly born," replied the youth, with a sigh accompanied with tears, "in this miserable

condition. The misfortunes of my father, and the present unhappy state of my mother, forced me to it." "Who is your father?"

"He was a merchant who had already acquired some credit, and had begun to make his fortune, when the failure of one of his correspondents entirely ruined him at one blow. To height en ourmisfortunes, he was unable to survive his disgrace, and in consequence, died a month after of a broken heart. My mother, a younger brother, and I, are left in extreme misery. I have found shelter with a friend of my fateher. My mother has struggled hitherto by her labours to support herself and my little brother, but this night she has been suddenly seized by a violent malady, which makes me fear for her life. I am destitute of everything. I am totally unprovided with money, and I cannot succour her. Unac

customed to beg, I have not courage to present myself to any one who can recognize me. You, signor, seem to me a stranger; before you, for the first time, I have taken courage to overcome the shame which I feel. Oh, have pity on my unhappy mother! and enable me, I entreat thee, to obtain the means of relieving her." Having thus spoken, he burst into a flood of tears, at which the unknown personage felt himself greatly moved.

"Does your mother," said he, "live far from this?"

"She is," answered the youth, "at the end of the street, in the furthest house to the left, on the third storey." "Has any physician as yet visited her?"

"I was just going in search of one, but I know neither how to recompense him, nor how to provide what he shall have ordered."

The unknown gentleman drew from his purse some florins, and offering them to him, "Go quickly," said he, "and procure medical aid." The youth having rendered thanks in the most simple, but at the same time most energetic, expressions of a grateful heart, departed immediately.

The gentleman, meantime, whilst he was away in another direction, resolved to go himself, and see the afflicted widow. Having ascended the stairs, he entered a small room, where he saw nothing but a few chairs of straw; a few kitchen utensils; a table, rough, and ill put together; an old chest of drawers; a bed, on which lay the sick widow; and a small couch beside it. She was in the most profound dejection, and the little son at the foot of the bed was dissolved in tears. The mother strove to comfort him, but she had herself need of comfort. The personage approached softly, and as a physician, questioned her regarding her distress. She stated briefly the symptoms; then, with a sigh and with tears, "Ah! signor," said she, "my malady arises from too deep a cause; the medical art has no remedy for it. I am the mother, alas! the unhappy mother, of two miserable children. My misfortunes and those

of my children have already pierced this heart too deeply. Death alone can put an end to my affliction, but this even makes me tremble for the desolation in which my poor children will be left." Here her weeping increased; she related her own misfortunes, which the supposed physician, notwithstanding the information which he had already obtained, feigned not to know, and which anew drew tears from his eyes.

"Come, cheer up," said he at last; "do not yet despair; Heaven will not be unmindful of you. I pity your calamity, but Heaven is provident; you will not be abandoned. Think, in the mean time, on preserving a life which is too precious to your children. Have you any writ ing paper?"

She tore a leaf from a small book on which she exercised the child of about seven years of age, which was at the foot of the bed.

The unknown, after having written, said, "This remedy will begin to comfort you; we will proceed by and bye to another better when necessary, and by degrees I hope you will become well." He left the note on the table, and went away.

A few minutes after, the elder son returned. "Dear mother," said he, "take courage, Heaven has had pity on us. Look at the money which a gentleman has generously given me this morning; this will be sufficient for a few days. I have been for a physician, who will be here immediately. Calm your grief and console yourself."

"Ah, my son!" said the mother, "come, that I may embrace you. Heaven assists thy innocence-may it ever protect it! A physician whom I know not has been here, and has just now left. Behold the recipe on the table: go, dear, and bring what he prescribes."

The son took the billet, read it, and made a motion of extreme astonishment; he looked at it again, read it over once more; then raised a cry," Ah, mother! what can this be?"

The mother, amazed and perplexed, took the paper and read it impatiently. "Oh, Heavens! the Emperor!"

Whilst she uttered these words, the leaf dropped from her hands, and she remained speechless and without a breath. The note was an order from Augustus Joseph II., in which he assigned from his own private treasury a generous assisttance. The doctor arrived opportunely to recover the mother from the swoon into which the surprise had

thrown her. The remedies applied soon recovered her from the sickness which drew its principal cause from the afflictions of her mind. The generous monarch, loaded with praises and benedictions, had the pleasure of restoring health and life, and of forming the happiness of an honest family, harshly persecuted by fortune.

THE noble-minded David Simpson, of Macclesfield, author of the "Plea for Religion," &c., once heard Alexander Kilham speak in the open air in the above town. This occurred shortly after Kilham was expelled the Wesleyan body for his advocacy of religious liberty. Having heard Mr. Kilham state his views of church government, Mr. Simpson remarked to the effect, that however men might revile Mr. Kilham, no one could overturn the principles he maintained, if they were such as he had heard from him that day.

On the subject of religious liberty Mr. Simpson expresses the following noble sentiments.

"For much more than a thousand years the Christian world was a stranger to religious liberty. Even toleration was unknown till about a century ago. The clergy, especially, have usually been unfriendly to religious liberty. When the Act of Toleration was obtained in King William's time, great numbers of them were much against it. It appears to me, however, that both the name and the thing are inconsistent with the very nature of the Gospel of Christ. For have I not as much right to control you in your religious concerns as you have to control me? To talk of tolerating, implies an authority over me. Yet who but Christ has any such authority over me? He is a tyrant, a very pope, who pretends to any such thing. These matters will be better understood by and by. The whole Christian world lay in darkness upon this subject, we have observed, for many ages. Dr. Owen is the first I am acquainted with who wrote in favour of it, in

the year 1648. Milton followed him, about the year 1658, in his "Treatise of the Civil Power of Ecclesiastical Causes." And the immortal Locke followed them both with his golden "Treatise on Toleration," in 1689. But notwithstanding these and many other works which have since been written on the same subject, much still remains to be done in this country. Locke's book has not yet been generally read and understood. Though we have had the honour of being among the first of the nations which obtained a large portion of civil and religious freedom, others are now taking the lead of us on the rights of conscience. And it does not appear to many that we ever can be a thoroughly united and happy people, till every good subject enjoys equal civil privileges, without any regard to religious sects and opinions. If a man be a peaceable, industrious, moral, and religious person, and an obedient subject to the civil government under which he lives, let his religious views be what they may, he seems to have a just claim to the enjoyment of every office, privilege, and emolument of that Government. And till this is in fact the case, I apprehend there never can be a settled state of things. There will be an eternal enmity between the governing and the governed; an everlasting struggle for superiority. But when every member of society enjoys equal privileges with his fellow members, the bone of contention is removed, and there is nothing for which they should any longer be at enmity. Equal and impartial liberty, equal privileges and emoluments, are, or should be, the birthright of every

member of civil society; and would be the glory of any Government to bestow upon all its serious, religious, and moral-acting citizens, without any regard to the sect and party to which they belong. Talents and in

tegrity alone should be the sine qua non to recommend any man to the notice of people in power. This, it should seem, would make us an united and happy people."-Simpson's Plea for Religion.

A PERSON in humble life, residing in a large town, for many years obtained his livelihood by traversing on foot the villages within some miles' distance, going each day in a direction regularly planned, selling smallwares and various articles according to the season of the year. By his own desire he was supplied with from fifty to a hundred sets of loan tracts for each day's circulation; these he left regularly at the houses he visited, collecting them again on that day fortnight. The sets left in each district contained the same tracts; and, beginning on the second Monday with a spare set, those collected were left in the next district, two districts being visited each day; thus a supply of thirteen parcels lasted for nearly half a year. But in that time many had to be renewed, for any person wishing to retain the tracts left might do so on paying a penny, and a considerable number availed themselves of this opportunity for obtaining the words of gospel truth, often having them bound up when enough to form a small volume. It is to be noted that the tracts thus chosen and purchased by the cottagers, were usually those which would be called of a grave character, a fact highly creditable to our village population. They felt, indeed, that the tracts were calculated to benefit their never-dying souls; and thus devoted servants to Christ, long since

departed-the venerable George Burder, for instance- though now in glory, is still preaching by his Village Sermons on earth, to many hundreds in this one district by this simple means of usefulness. Papists represent the saints in heaven as listening to the prayers of mortals on earth; but surely we may believe, if they do now take an interest in what passes below, that they would rather delight in knowing that their writings are thus preaching the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of salvation through faith in him as a crucified Saviour. Nor was the above a mere transitory effort: the writer knows that it continued regularly, without suspension, excepting at harvest, and once or twice for a short time from illness, for more than twelve years. He could, and would add much more on the subject, but then he believes the work is still in progress; and it is best, therefore, only to say, that there is good evidence that it has been blessed among those who thus took the word of truth into their houses.

May not this simple account induce some readers to engage in like efforts in their own neighbourhood? The system can be varied, and accommodated to any existing circumstances. And remember the word, "Let us work while it is called to day, for the night cometh when no man can work."

LONDON is the largest and richest city in the world. In 1841 it contained a population of 1,813,676, of which 876,956 were males, and 936,720 were females; the number is now upwards of 2,000,000. The number of houses is upwards of 288,000, the rental of which is about

£8,800,000. Number of squares, streets, lanes, courts, alleys, &c., each with a distinct name, about 15,000. London extends a length of about eight miles, by a breadth of about seven miles, including an extent computed at 35 square miles. Within the last 50 years London has more