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proselyte of the gate went up as a memorial before God; and on the principle that to him that hath shall more be given, this devout man was directed to a means of grace that should give him the hope of glory. Not to be overlooked is the unnamed man-at-arms after his own heart, whom Cornelius sent with two of his household servants to Joppa, to call for Simon Peter; a devout soldier of them that waited on him continually." Such were his surroundings. With the progress and result of that mission to Joppa we are not at present concerned. Cornelius the centurion, and that devout soldier unnamed, who was evidently dear to him and deservedly in his confidence,these we take as types of the religious spirit of military life, as New Testament ensamples of piety in men whose profession is war.

One of the interlocutors in Mr. P. J. Bailey's colloquial satire, The Age, conceits that

"Of all conceits misgrafted on God's word,

A Christian soldier is the most absurd.

A Christian soldier's duty is to slay,

Wound, harass, slaughter, hack in every way,

These men, whose souls he prays for night and day—

With what consistency let prelates say.

He's told to love his enemies-don't scoff;

He does so, and with rifles picks them off."

It is very well, says Dr. Russell, that soldiers have some to pray for them at home: "There are pious and devout men, who in the hurry of campaigning, before and after battle, forget not their Maker. But who can think of Him in the shock of arms, when the air is laden with death, and the ground covered with shrieking wretches passing away to their account, or engaged in killing?" Yet in Plutarch we read of Flaminius 'standing still," in midmost battle with the Macedonians, "with his hands lifted up towards heaven, and praying." Shall Corporal Trim be cited for evidence? "I thought," said the curate, "that you gentlemen of the army, Mr. Trim, never said your prayers at all." "A soldier, an please your reverence,

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prays as often (of his own accord) as a parson; and when he is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for his honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God of any one in the whole world. . . . But when a soldier, an please your reverence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the trenches, up to his knees in cold water—or engaged for months together in long and dangerous marches;

resting this night out upon his arms,-beat up in his shirt the next,— benumbed in his joints,—perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on; he must say his prayers how and when he can.” Adam Smith pursues a philosophical inquiry, why it is that we are apt to annex the character of gaiety, levity, and sprightly freedom, as well as some degree of dissipation, to the military profession; whereas the most suitable mood or tone of temper to this situation would seem to be a surpassingly serious and thoughtful turn of mind, as best becoming those whose lives are continually exposed to uncommon danger, and who should, therefore, be more constantly occupied than other men with the thought of death, and of what comes after death. It is this very circumstance, however, which the Theorist of Moral Sentiments takes to explain why levity is so prevalent a characteristic of the soldier; for so great is the effort required to conquer the fear of death, when we survey it with steadiness and attention, that those who are constantly exposed to it find it easier to turn away their thoughts from it altogether, to wrap themselves up in careless security and indifference, and to plunge themselves, for this purpose, into every sort of amusement and dissipation. In his Project for the Advancement of Religion, Swift incidentally affirms, as what "is observed abroad, that no race of mortals have so little sense of religion as English soldiers; to confirm which, I have been often told by great officers of the army, that, in the whole compass of their acquaintance, they could not recollect three of their profession who seemed to regard or believe one syllable of the Gospel." Further on again we read: "If gentlemen of that profession were at least obliged to some external decorum in their conduct; or even if a profligate life and character were not a means of

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advancement, and the appearance of piety a most infallible hindrance, it is impossible the corruptions there should be so universal and exorbitant." The time is even yet to come when a devout soldier shall not be a marked man, and quoted as an exception to prove the contrary rule. Pope Gregory the Great was anxious to assure the Emperor of the possibility of such a thing as a devout soldier: "It is supposed, perhaps, that such conversions are not sincere; but I, your unworthy servant, know many converted soldiers, who in our own days have worked miracles and done many signs and wonders ;”—themselves, perhaps, to some observers, the greatest sign and wonder, or miracle, of all. In Gibbon, narrating the African war in A.D. 398, "it is observed, to the praise of the Roman general, that his days and nights were employed in prayer, fasting, and the occupation of singing psalms." The "devout leader" is, of course, anything but a man after Mr. Gibbon's own heart. That great historian would have sympathized rather with the common soldier whose prayer is on record, just before the battle of Blenheim: "Oh God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul!" Sir William Wyndham once quoted this in company, as the shortest prayer he had ever heard of, and a general laugh ensued; whereupon the Bishop of Rochester (Atterbury), then first joining in the conversation, and addressing himself to Wyndham, said, with what Earl Stanhope calls his usual grace and gentleness of manner, "Your prayer, Sir William, is indeed very short; but I remember another as short, but a much better, offered up likewise by a poor soldier in the same circumstances: 'O God, if in the day of battle I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me!'" The whole company, it is said, sat silent and abashed.*

The favourite appeal of Gustavus Adolphus to his soldiers was, "Pray constantly: praying hard, is fighting hard.” “You may win salvation under my command, but hardly riches," was his encouragement to his officers. He is cited by Mr. Herman

* It was at a dinner party at the Duke of Ormond's, at Richmond, in 1715.

Merivale as exceptionally distinguished by that deep religious conviction which, when openly avowed and consistently acted on, invariably awes minds conscious of their own falling shortComparing him with Cromwell, who could not have been more convinced of his own divine vocation, or more fearless in his expression of reliance on it, the same historical critic maintains that there is in the zeal of Cromwell, even when taken at its best, something of the earth, earthy, which contrasts unfavourably with the earnest, manly, single-minded piety of Gustavus; the consequence being, that, while Cromwell's enemies have made him out a hypocrite, and have left great part of the world persuaded that he was one, no detractor has ever endeavoured to fasten the like imputation on the Swede. With him, however, as with Cromwell, the constant sense of religion led to a familiarity of utterance respecting it which, in the ears of our reserved generation, seems almost startling. Gustavus "preached" so much-though without the shadow of affectation that a Michelet, it is suggested, might perhaps say of him, as of our Henry V. at Agincourt, "le plus dur pour les prisonniers, c'était d'entendre les sermons de ce roi des prêtres, d'endurer ses moralités, ses humilités." That is not the accepted English notion of our fifth Harry. But the madcap prince, who had been boon companion with Poins and Falstaff, had been also the observant contemporary of Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, and though a good hater of heresy, could not but be impressed by the piety of that martyred Lollard-a man of the highest military reputation, who, after serving with great distinction in the French wars, devoted his whole soul to his religion; and of whom Dean Milman says, "His conduct was throughout that of a noble religious man. Before his execution he fell on his knees, and implored forgiveness on his enemies. His last words, drowned by the crackling flames, were praise of God." Lollardism notwithstanding, worthy was this man of a place among the "Worthies" of Fuller; such a place as Fuller gives to Lord Vere (Horace) when he describes that meeker but not less valorous of two distinguished brothers as "so pious that he first made his

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peace with God before he went out to war with men." Like that brave Captain Bate, who was killed in a daring enterprise in the Chinese war of 1858, and of whom a very gallant officer had previously said, "My pluck is quite a different thing from Bate's. I go ahead because I never think of danger; Bate is always ready for a desperate service because he is always prepared for death"-he being indeed characterized by the historian of that war as "an eminently religious man." It has been said of Collingwood, that none of the captains at the Nile led his ship with more intrepidity to the hottest of the fire, as assuredly none did so under a more devout sense of religion and of implicit trust in God. He is noted as having been the first, after the battle was over, to hoist the signal for the ship's company to assemble at prayers; and, however much disposed to ridicule such observances in their own country, or in a different situation, the French prisoners, we are told, were struck with something of respect and admiration at seeing the men kneel down on decks still running with blood and encumbered with the dead, to return thanks to the Supreme Disposer of events for a signal victory.

English critics said of the Abbé Mullois' book on Le St. Père et Rome, that he threw a light upon the character of French soldiers which to us islanders was absolutely new; our idea of a French grenadier having always been that he was brave, obedient, and indomitably patriotic; but that, if he had a weak point, it was in regard to religion-that his life was scarcely more regular than that of our own brave guardsmen, whose yearly campaigns in London are the dread of steady householders that he was rather given to laugh at mysteries, and loved dearly to play off a practical joke upon a priest. "But the Abbé Mullois has taught us that, with respect at least to the army of occupation, we might almost as innocently have scoffed at a prophet, or spoken lightly of a saint ;" and that so far are they from being profane mockers, that at every step of the history of the Holy Father's sorrows and successes, the effect is always heightened by the picture of an officer who goes into ecstasies, or a regiment of Zouaves who burst into