We find in prophecy that the woman fell first. Babylon is first proclaimed fallen, then “the beast which was and is not, and yet is," goes down in the last great battle, when the angel standing in the sun calls to the fowls of heaven to Come and gather themselves together to the supper of the great God, to eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, both free and bond, both small and great."

Ecclesiastical Despotism to-day trembles when she sees her defenders march away to a distant land to be swallowed up in the maelstrom which ambition has stirred up on the stormy waters of strife, and turns pale when she hears the murmur of rising peoples and the tramp of armies hastening to hurl her down from her seat on the seven hills. I say ecclesiastical despotism; I do not say the Roman Catholic Church, for it would be a great calamity if that should be destroyed; but the power that dominates her shall be cast down, and she, like the nations, shall be enfranchised.

You remember how the revolution of 1789 rolled its surges, not only against the throne of kings, but also that of religious despotism, and bore away some of their strongest supports. Then the wars of Napoleon Bonaparte, though in the service of the most absolute despotism, launched their thunders upon the head of this power, and under their shocks it almost went down. True, it raised its head again above the waves, but it was shorn of much of its prestige. Then during the revolutions in Italy, where the fifth vial was poured out upon the throne of the beast, and especially in Italian unity, so hopefully initiated by the battles of Magenta and Solferino, and thus far perfected by the battle of Sadowathe same event liberalizing Austria, its chief bulwark—ecclesiastical despotism received most stunning blows. The abolition of serfdom in Russia, and the destruction of slavery in this country, after one of the most tremendous struggles of history, are great events bearing directly on political despotism, and more remotely on religious. I refer the reader to my poem further on, which embodies my thoughts on this subject, rendering it unnecessary to repeat them here.

It is not for me to say that Louis Napoleon stands forth in the foreground of history to-day, as the fulfillment of any distinct prophetic symbol. I do not see him in any symbol, nor anything, as it seems to me, that would suggest him to any unprejudiced mind; yet, doubtless, his form was seen by the prophet, blended with other forms which crowd the great canvas of Eternal Providence, as objects are blended by distance on a landscape, and I do not doubt but he has had an important part in the fulfillment of prophecy, and I have never doubted what the termination of his reign would be. In prosecuting my work on the poem which follows these lectures, about a year ago, (October, 1869,) I sketched the campaigns of the first Napoleon, in northern Italy, as the highly probable fulfillment of the symbolism of the third vial. At the close of the sketch I introduced what seemed to me to be a still further fulfillment of this terrible symbolism, a short sketch of the Franco-Italian campaign against the power of Austria, in that same country of rivers and fountains. I quote a few lines, as they will not appear, in this form, in the poem:

But all that vial was not spent,

Though many streams with blood were blent,
Till fifty years, when in that land,

Another scourge of God should stand.

Exalted to his uncle's throne

By revolution's shifting tide,

He grasped a scepter not his own,
But for a season to abide,

To beat the nations, as a rod,
In hand of an avenging God;

Then to be vilely cast aside,

All shorn of power and crushed in pride.
That fate is thine, Napoleon,

Of Rome, self-styled, the eldest son.

Of course I make no claim to prophetic vision, nor, indeed, to any extraordinary sagacity; but I wrote the above when there was no political cloud in the heavens to portend the fearful storm that is now sweeping over France; because I believed in God, in his revelation, in eternal right, and in the final triumph of civil liberty along with a pure religion; both of which are grandly shadowed forth in the prophetic

- of both of which Louis

symbols we are considering Napoleon, with all his large professions, has shown himself a most unscrupulous enemy. It is true that none of us

are yet certain as to what. his ultimate fate may be; yet it now looks very much as if he had been "vilely cast aside, all shorn of power and crushed in pride," by the swirls of the whirlwind which he himself has evoked from the stormy elements.

Contemplate the fearful campaign whose thunders have startled the world for the last two months, and tell me if ever the hand of God was more distinctly visible in human affairs. Everything about it has disappointed ordinary human calculation. The world was astonished and indignant when Napoleon, on the most flimsy pretext possible, declared war and hurried his army away to invade Prussian territory. All have been astonished at the amazing rapidity of the mobilization of the Prussian army, so rapid that William was ready to strike the first blow. Who ever heard of three-quarters of a million of men drawn so quickly from every part of the kingdom, and hurled so furiously against the would-be invaders? We were astonished to see the tables turned, and a great host invading France, instead of Germany. We have been filled with admiration at the wondrous unity of the German people; and the sagacity of statesmen has been put to fault by the course which the South German States have taken in the conflict. The world has been filled with amazement at the unbroken series of brilliant victories that have crowned the German arms, and at the rapidity with which the magnificent army of France has melted away under the steady but terrific assaults of her invincible foes. And we are bewildered at the unparalleled spectacle of a hundred thousand Frenchmen surrendering in Sedan at discretion, with the emperor himself, and his generals, arms, munitions and standards. We instinctively exclaim: Where are the valor and generalship of Austerlitz, of Jena and Auerstadt? And so, when the veil of the conflict lifts and displays more perfectly the gory wrecks of the battle-field, no doubt the world will be astonished and appalled at the fearful slaughter of victims by the terrible engines of destruction which civilization, or barbarism, has

introduced into the warfare of the nineteenth century. To cap the climax, the world is amazed at the rapidity and apparent hopelessness of the downfall of the most formidable despotism of the age.

I have read with wonder and awe about the rapid advance of Alexander into the East, when, before his invincible phalanxes, the Persian legions went down on the fearful fields of the Granicus, of Isus, of Arbela, and other fields, which in twelve years erected the great Macedonian Empire, with Babylon for its capital. With wonder I have followed Hannibal, the Carthaginian general, across Gibraltar, through Spain, over the Pyrenees, through Gaul, and over the Alps into Italy, his wonderful campaign culminating in the terrific battle of Lake Thrasymene, in whose roar an earthquake which shook the continent and overthrew cities, passed unheeded by the opponents. I know something of the campaigns of Julius Cæsar, who spread the Roman Empire over Switzerland, Gaul, Germany, and a large part of Britain. I have studied quite carefully the campaigns of Napoleon. But I find nothing in all these that can equal this campaign, not even in Napoleon's masterpiece, as it has been called, the campaign of Austerlitz. Results which formerly would have required years to accomplish, have been achieved in two short months. What but the hand of God is hurrying up affairs to make room for the grand coming events whose greatness casts their shadows before? He hath said of the world, "I will overturn, overturn, overturn it," to prepare the way for the reign of his Son.

Of course it is too early to speak with certainty in reference to the ultimate results of this fearful campaign. But one thing seems to be taken for granted by all: the Empire of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is at an end. There are none among the nations, and few even in France, so poor as to do him reverence. Held as a prisoner in a German fortress, which at the same time affords an asylum to him from the fury of his quondam subjects, he is to-day an object of commiseration, rather than of fear.

But one of the impending results of the fall of the French Empire is the destruction of the temporal power of the Pope, and the end of ecclesiastical despotism in Italy. Imperial

France was its last powerful supporter. When her armies embarked from Rome, the city was left at the mercy of Italian troops, which, beyond all doubt, will soon occupy it, and make it the capital of United Italy. The Papacy has nothing to hope from a French Republic; and should that fail, as many of its friends fear it will, years inust elapse, if the time ever comes, when France will have gained anything like the position she has lately occupied among the nations. Ere that time the last vestige of ecclesiastical despotism may have been swept from the earth forever; or other nations may so far outstrip France that she cannot afford protection to the Papal power, should she have any inclination that way. So this great war has knocked another strong pillar from beneath that colossal power which, at one time, dominated the world, and even now, in its dotage, shows immense vitality. True, it is not destroyed, but it hastens to its downfall.

And so there can be no doubt that this dreadful war will strike an equally strong blow upon political despotism. We know that Sadowa liberalized Austria, whatever may have been the intentions of Prussia. We see that this war has overthrown imperialism in France and erected a French Republic, whatever may be its future fate. It cannot be that such expense of blood and treasure, solely in the interests of despotism, will fail to open the eyes of nations, and to hasten the time when it shall be an established maxim that government is for the people, and not for those who hold its reins.

However this may be, we may rest in the conclusion that the destinies of Europe, and, so far as it goes, of the world, will be safer under German, than under French leadership. We may hope for a more liberal international policy, so far as German influence can establish it. German ideas are more nearly abreast of the age than French; and, in all good conscience, we hope and believe that the tone of public morality is much higher in Germany. If she stands at the head of the nations of Europe, these things must have their influence, and they will help to shape its international policy.