beer-shop politicians, to throw dust in parliamentary eyes; but the Christian Church-the true friend of the working classes-must bestir itself, and "speak as one having authority," because having "the mind of Christ.'

God keep us all from a continental Sabbath!

W. M. W.

LEYDEN:

A TALE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

Conclusion.

"HE entered that prison," continued the priest, "full of hope and triumph; he left it with a crushed and bleeding heart. Inez was self-condemned, and though it tore that heart in twain, though it bore down reason itself, and even perilled his soul's salvation, he bowed to the decision of the Church. Could he put faith again in ought beautiful or good? Could he love, or hope, or trust again, as he had done before? The sunrise glow of life was gone; every high, or tender, or noble feeling seared and blasted; and from that hour his downward course was rapid, until he became the wreck you see him now.

"That babe, Alphonso, was the only thing on earth he seemed to love. Little cared he for the curse and the infamy that should cling to the child of a heretic, in accordance with the severe sentence of the Holy Office. He never seemed at peace unless when he was by his side, or clasped in his arms; and although he would suffer none to mention the name of Inez in his presence, many and many were the hours he spent gazing on that very picture I hold now in my hand, which, immediately after his last parting in the prison, he took from his own and hung round Alphonso's neck. He could not bear a moment's separation from that child; and even when he obtained a commission in the Duke of Alva's army, and left Spain for these countries, he insisted on taking him with him, in spite of every remonstrance from his relatives. With all the rest you are acquainted.

"More than six years ago the Duke sent him on a secret commission requiring haste and promptitude, and which would occasion a few days' absence from the camp. Some eight or ten

miles from this I was obliged to go with him, and Alphonso, left to the care of camp attendants, was allowed to stray whither you found him. He was not missed for a considerable time, and then all search was found useless, and it was generally thought he had fallen a prey to the wolves."

“But the lady Inez, what became of her?" Philip anxiously inquired.

"She died in prison."

"But how, or when ?"

"No more is known, or can be, until the day when all secrets shall be made manifest. God forgive me, but I believe her spirit is in heaven."

"Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest," his companion added, thoughtfully. "But, Senor," he continued, "how can you defend such an abominable system ? "

"Did I ever defend it ?" said the old priest, mildly.

"If not in so many words, by your actions at least you have done, and are doing so. You hold your peace, you remain member of a church that does these things-does them, and glories in them; you call the head of that church infallible."

"Man must have a church and a creed. Something to believe in, to worship, to cling to, is a strong necessity of his nature."

"True; but in embracing an anti-christian faith, and cleaving to a corrupt church, take heed that you be not partaker in her plagues."

"What can I do? I must accept all or nothing. Faith comes from God, distrust and infidelity from the powers of evil. If I listen for one moment to their dark suggestions, who can tell whither they may lead me? I may begin by doubting the infallibility of the church, and end by disbelieving the existence of a God!"

"Oh, no, no," said Philip, earnestly. "God never leaves any that seek his face to wander in doubt and darkness. We must not accept the commandments of men for the teachings of his Holy Book. Those may and will lead us into perilous and soul-destroying error-these will be a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path. His word to you is, 'Prove all things, hold fast that which is good;" and again, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.'

"God is my witness, I do not sleep," replied Fray Bernardo, "and if I close mine eyes it is because there are things around me I dare not look on. I tell you, Van Rosenveldt, I have seen oppressions done under the sun that have made me marvel to

think there was an omnipotent God above, who beheld these things, and stayed his hand the while. Look at Inez; nay, more, look at Fernando Verez, what hath he done that his whole life should be blighted thus ? If his heart be hard, and cold, and cruel, now, whose is the sin? His own, or their's, who, in the mere wantonness of cruelty, severed the link of love that bound him to God and to all holy things? done at the command of the all-loving, all-merciful One?

Was this

"Questions like these I have asked my own heart day by day, night by night, till I began to fear reason would totter on her throne. But I need that faith, mysterious though it be. I could not live without it. Therefore I will still hold on, and while there are many things in the dealings of His providence, and of his Church, I cannot fathom, no doubt shall disturb my earnest faith that God is-that He is just."

"And the justifier of them that believe in Jesus," said Philip, concluding the sentence, "No other faith but this can save us.'

Fray Bernardo hid his face with both hands, and remained for a few moments buried in deep thought; then suddenly starting, he said, "I have long outstayed my time, and must linger here no more. Come with me, my young friend, you yourself shall be the bearer of these strange tidings to Don Verez."

Philip followed him out. Once more the fresh air fanned his fevered cheek and burning brow, burning now with hope and excitement. It was a day of sun, and cloud, and storm. The equinoctial gales, so long watched and waited for in vain, had set in at last; a strong west wind was blowing, and, as yet, unmarked and unheeded by all, bearing swiftly onward the hour of vengeance on the oppressors, and deliverance for the oppressed.

A strange scene passed that hour in the tent of Verez. The secret was unfolded, the long-lost child was found. The hard heart was melted at last, and the proud and cruel soldier wept as a feeble child.

But time was passing on; the waves rose rapidly, and almost before any one was aware, the thousands encamped beneath the walls of Leyden were in the very jaws of death. Now was it their turn to call in vain for the mercy they had so often refused to others. Thousands upon thousands perished that fearful day, either in the waves or by the hands of the Dutch, who sallied forth in their light boats, and by means of pikes attached to long poles, cut down the fugitives without pity.

But Leyden was saved; and William's boats soon brought abundant relief to its famished inhabitants. Philip saw all this, and heard their shouts of triumph; and even though he believed his own fate certain (for the waves were rising high around the

place where Verez's regiment was stationed) he rejoiced. He thought of his father, and of Alphonso, and Gertrude, but he thought not of Lisa save as a glorified spirit, whom he was soon to meet in heaven. "Thank God they are saved!" was the language of his heart and of his lips. But at that moment a loud cheerful voice hailed him from one of the boats: it was that of his friend, Quinten Lambert, exclaiming, "Welcome from the dead, Philip Van Rosenveldt!" and soon he stood by his side in safety. Under any circumstances, life is very precious, and Philip's first emotions were those of joy and gratitude to Him who had saved him out of so many perils.

But his thoughts were soon recalled, as his eye met that of Verez, from whom he had been separated in the confusion, and who, encumbered by his armour, was now struggling in vain with the waves. He breathed no prayer for life or mercy, yet in his dark countenance there was a silent, stern despair, far more touching than the most agonizing supplication. And true it was, that he who never before had trembled at death, even in its most appalling form, who had often in anguish of heart desired it, now longed for life with more than nature's strong instinctive longing, and clung to it with the fervent grasp of despair. It was but one feeling which animated him-the yearning desire to look on the face of his child once more; and then let the worst arrive, he was ready.

Philip turned to his companions, and besought them, for the love of God, to receive him. They hesitated, but yielded at length, overcome by his earnestness; and Fernando Verez, rescued from imminent death, gave them all that he had to give -a soldier's heart-felt thanks.

Fray Bernardo was among those that perished; may we hope that He, whose gracious promise is to him that "walketh in darkness, and hath no light;" who "will not break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax," had mercy on him, and accepted his dim and' imperfect faith.

There is little more to tell. In a few hours Philip Van Rosenveldt met and embraced his father, who received him as one given back to him from the grave, and thanked God that he was not left quite desolate in his old age. That very day had Lisa breathed her last; her gentle spirit lingered till she was assured of the deliverance of those she loved, from their protracted sufferings; and then she fell asleep "in the sure and certain hope of a blessed immortality."

This was the only drop of bitterness in Philip's full cup of joy, but he did not mourn as they that have no hope; he knew she was gone to her Father, and to his; and with a stedfast, believing heart, he prepared to follow in her steps, vowing, but

not in his own strength, to consecrate himself to the service of Him, who had loved and washed him from his sins in His own blood.

But there was another meeting between a son and father that day. All the despair, the sadness, the hardening of years, seemed to melt away in the close, fond embrace, with which Fernando Verez strained his child Alphonso to his heart; and, as he wept over him, and blessed him, and thanked his kind protectors again and again, the doubtful, half-bewildered gaze with which he had first met him, passed away from the boy's large earnest eyes, the light of filial confidence began to shine there instead, and it was not long before he twined his arms lovingly around his father's neck, and said, "I will love you very much, dear father; but may I not love my grandfather too, and uncle Philip, and my sister Gertrude, and may she not be always my sister ?"

Verez acceded to the request: he was anxious to do everything in his power to show his gratitude to Van Rosenveldt's family, and his remorse for his former conduct to them; but they would receive nothing at his hands, except that indeed Alphonso prevailed on old Réné to allow his father to give Gertrude a good education. He himself was one of the first scholars at the University of Leyden, established in the following year by the Prince of Orange, as a memorial of the siege, and a testimony of their country's gratitude to the citizens for their brave defence.

The boy fulfilled the high promise of his early childhood; he was God's chosen instrument to perform his own work on the heart of Verez. That work was not done at once. It took months and years of prayer and patient striving to accomplish; but it was God's work, so it could not fail to be accomplished in his own good time. And even old Réné Van Rosenveldt lived to see the fierce and cruel persecutor sitting at the feet of Jesus, an humble disciple, only desirous of obeying his will, and living to his glory.

Alphonso persevered for ten long years in his resolution of calling Gertrude Van Rosenveldt "sister," and then he changed the title, but it was only to one more dear and nearer still.

DEBORAH.