having been impugned, the "Evangelische Kirchenzeitung (the organ of the German branch of the Evangelical Alliance) gives, in detail, the evidence in a number of these cases which have occurred in the single province of Courland, on the Baltic. Arrest, imprisonment for various terms, transportation from one town to another in bonds, as common criminals, and banishment, have all been inflicted on account of religion. In one case, a working man named Gaertner underwent a year's imprisonment for preaching. Repeatedly urged to do so, in a weak moment he signed a promise to hold no more meetings, whereupon he was released. But his conscience awakened. He could not keep the promise given, and on account of baptisms recently administered, he was, in July, 1863, again arrested, and committed to prison in the gaol of Hasenpoth, with the probability of being treated more rigorously than before, on account of his double apostasy.* Every householder in Parkulmen on whose premises a prohibited religious meeting is found to have taken place is compelled to undergo eight days' imprisonment. Two cases are mentioned as having occurred at Libau, in which the sufferers, after having endured an imprisonment, the one of eight, the other of sixteen weeks, were banished. They were consequently transported, with their families, under military escort, to Memel, across the Prussian frontier. "Hundreds of persons," on their arrival in the latter place, we are told, could not withhold their sympathy; in the public streets there was weeping and lamentation. The German writer from whom we quote reminds us that this is not a question of secession from the Greek Church, which the law of the land still punishes by exile to Siberia, but the dissenting parties are persons of the German population, in the Russian Baltic provinces, who have left the Lutheran Church, to which they formerly belonged, and have become Baptists. As regards Poland, the testimony of the missionary Álf is quoted to the fact that the chain he wore in December was so tight that his arm was hurt, and blood flowed from the joints at the hard from the friction. Missionary Alf is at this moment again in prison at Putulsk, where he is to remain for three months, for acting as an evangelist.

In connection with these statements, it is only right to add, that the denial of religious liberty in some parts of Germany also is carried to an extreme which must greatly shock British notions of justice. Thus, in Saxony-the cradle of the Reformation-the compulsory baptism of infants is still practised. A poor weaver, named Fiedler, at Oderan-by-Chemnitz, for refusing to have his child baptized according to the rites of the Church, suffered the confiscation of his goods to the amount of twenty dollars, and was then imprisoned for eight days, during which time he passed through two judicial examinations, at which efforts were made to obtain his consent to his child's baptism. This he refused, and it took place by force in the presence of a large congregation.

European Turkey and the Danubian Principalities have been lately visited by the Rev. A. Thompson, for the purpose of promoting the objects of the British and Foreign Bible Society, of which he is an agent. He describes the circulation of the Scriptures in the Principalities as most encouraging, and as going hand in hand with education, each work lending the other the most important aid. The perfect liberty and protection enjoyed by all who labour for the spiritual welfare of the Principalities, elicits the expression of his heartfelt gratitude. Referring to the north-west provinces of Turkey-Bosnia, Croatia, Herzegovina, and Montenegro-he writes: "Having been informed of the extreme fanaticism of both Mussulmans and Christians in those regions, I resolved to confine all my transactions strictly to sales, that I might not, by gratuitous distributions, lay myself open to the charge of proselytising. The result was unexpected and gratifying in the highest degree. While there were sufficient manifestations of bigotry to justify every precaution, there was yet manifested a desire on the part of so many of all denominationsMussulmans, Christians, and Jews-to possess the Word of God, such as to render the journey one of the deepest interest." One result of the tour was the establishment of a depôt for the sale of the Scriptures at the capital of Bosnia, and the engagement of an agent for the purpose of carrying them for sale to the principal towns of the province. Mr. Thompson afterwards visited Albania. At Scutari, at its northern extremity, "every copy in the Italian, Greek, and Turkish languages was soon disposed of, amid many regrets that there were not far more in each of these languages. In that city particularly there seemed to be a peculiar

Since writing the above, we have noticed with satisfaction, that in the case of two of the persons thus suffering for their religious views-Gaertner and Janusohn-the judgment of the Courland tribunal has been reversed by the nigher court of St. Petersburg, and that they have been released from imprisonment in virtue of an Imperial Ukase.

readiness on the part of the Mussulmans to purchase the sacred volume, and not a few seemed to have got a certain acquaintance with its contents; while one individual of some rank was actually regarded by the Mussulmans as a Protestant, and apparently did not disown the name." At Joannina, in the south of Albania, principally inhabited by Greeks, Mr. Thompson says, "I sold perhaps a larger number of Greek Scriptures than had ever been sold in any one town on one occasion." The Jews, too, bought up his whole stock of Hebrew Scriptures, and some New Testaments also, while to the Mussulmans he sold no fewer than twenty-seven volumes of the Word of God.

An American missionary writes that in Medzerah, near Kharpoot, a deep-laid plot has been discovered to massacre the Christians. A man, apparently insane, rushed through the streets in open day with a drawn dagger in his hand, smiting down, on his right hand and on his left, whatever Christian came in his way, two of whom, American, have since died of their wounds. The plan was, that by thus simulating insanity, he should make his way to the presence of the Pasha of the district, and kill him. In the confusion which would then ensue in the city, the French viceconsul was to be next attacked, and his death would be the signal for a general massacre of the Christians. Providentially, the murderer was arrested just before he reached the Pasha's side, he and his accomplices were thrown into prison, and the whole facts of the conspiracy became known.

Beyrout has been fixed upon as the place for erecting a useful memorial to the late Sir Culling Eardley. The Ladies Association for the Social and Religious Improvement of Syrian Females have resolved to establish permanently in that city the Female Native Institution, under the name of the Eardley Memorial British School, for the Education of Female Syrians. Syrian Asylum's Committee have devoted 1,000l. to the object, and an appeal has been made to British liberality for contribations in further aid of the project.

The

We have not much to record as having occurred at home. The elevation of Dr. Trench to the archbishopric of Dublin, vacated by the death of Dr. Whately, has met with very general acquiescence. The new Archbishop has long been known as a man of learning and ability. He has the advantage, as it is deemed in the metropolitan diocese of the sister island, of being of Irish family, his father having been the brother of an Irisli peer. Through his mother, Dr. Trench is descended from an old family of French Protestant refugees, whose patronymic was "Chenevix". the Archbishop-designate's second baptismal name. The "Chenevixes," says a French Protestant journal, "have given pastors to our churches, and mention is made of a member of this family, president of the councillors of the Parliament of Metz, whose dead body was dragged on a hurdle, because he had died a Protestant." Dr. Stanley, Professor of Ecclesiastical History in the University of Oxford,-whose appointment to the see of Dublin was at first deemed likely, and would doubtless have been carried into effect but for the strong opposition the proposal encountered, has succeeded to the Deanery of Westminster, vacated by Dr. Trench.

To the obituary of the past year we regret to have to add the well-known name of the Rev. Dr. M'Caul, Rector of St. Magnus, and Professor at King's College, London. The doctor's efforts for the conversion of the Jews were long continued and most devoted, and his writings in defence of revelation-in reply both to the Essayists and Reviewers and to Bishop Colensowere among the most successful of their class. He had the reputation of being the first Hebraist in this country, and but for his own preference of Dr. Alexander (as a Jew) to himself for the office, he would have been the first Protestant Bishop of Jerusalem.

The Archbishop of York, at the instance of the Speaker of the House of Commons, has organized a plan for producing, by the combined efforts of a variety of the most accomplished pens, a commentary on the Scriptures which shall "put the reader in full possession of whatever information may be requisite to enable him to understand the word of God, and supply him with satisfactory answers to objections resting upon the misrepresentation of its contents." The Primate gives his sanction to the plan, and five other prelates are upon the committee of general supervision. The work will be divided into eight sections, each of which will have its own editor, who will be assisted by several contributors. The projected work has already been referred to as the "authorized" Commentary on the Bible, but it will not, of course, possess any authoritative character, except such as may be conferred by its intrinsic merits and reputation.

The appointment of Sir John Lawrence as Governor-General of India has given joy to all who seek the religious as well as political welfare of our eastern empire. His past career gives assurance that his rule will exhibit those principles which bring the truest safety and highest honour to a nation.

been overwhelmed in tho first twelve hours with enquirers and candidates; at least it would have been so, but that it was not was explained by the fact that few walked or travelled that way, it being unpopular on account of a certain ill-savoured stagnant pool, which occasionally interfered much with the breath so fastidious people said; and, moreover, it led to "nowhere and nobody," therefore nobody sought it. There had been "This house to let, at a moderate rent," put up in the window of the building we have likened to a lodge in a garden of cucumbers; and it had been there so long that the notice had grown quite brown and curly at the corners; and no wonder, for who that could live anywhere else, in decency, would live there?

It was a slip, not a house. There was a door, with an unusually narrow window beside it, and over the door was a window, and over that another with an attic, and a chimney at the top of all; so it was not lowly in height, as we have already remarked; and if its brethren, No. 2 and No. 3, etc., had been associated in family union with it, it would have been respectably imposing.

Perhaps, as there is sometimes a charm in a name, the builder, who was stopped short in his work, thought to atone to the lonely No. 1 by painting on the corner, just under the middle window, "Paradise Row." Either No. 1 might live in hopes of the paradise that was thus promised to spring up around it, or it might enjoy the compliment of having all the beauties of it concentrated in itself, and consider itself as representing all; but it looked like a forlorn elder brother in mourning for the rest of the family.

"No. 1 is let, sir," said the barber, while shaving a wealthy customer one morning.

So great was the surprise of the customer that a looker-on would have thought it was from an announcement of some great parliamentary intelligence at least. "Let at last! Well! who has taken it?" "Can't say, sir; haven't heard the gentleman's name," said the barber.

"Gentleman!" replied the customer, in rather a tone of contempt.

“Well, sir, I was told it was took by a gentleman; but every one's a gentleman now-a-days," said the barber, laughing apologetically.

Now this customer was not only rich, but he was a man of family. He lived in a large lonely house in the middle of shrubberies and lawns, and filled with all that it is thought necessary to fill a rich man's house with, consisting in every part of an abundance of things that are never used. And he was proud of his name-Sir Herbert Carteret-and he was proud of his place "The Hollies"-and he was proud of everything that belonged to him, and thought he was the most enviable man in existence, and fancied he was happy. He happy? We shall see.

The reader will wonder that Sir Herbert Carteret should know anything of the building ground and No..1; but it so happened that the windows at the back of his house commanded a view of it, and as he had very little to think of on his own account, he was in the habit of amusing himself by speculations on the affairs of his neighbours, and so he would look out to see if the boards were taken down every time he passed the building-ground to go to his own house (for he could go to it that way), and would give a glance to No. 1 in Paradise Row, and smile at the thought of its ever inviting an occupant.

That spring he was laid up with a severe fit of the gout; so that No. 1, or rather its inhabitants, had time to accommodate themselves to their circumstances, and become "at home," as it is called, before he caught a sight of them. The first glance he got was on a warm, sunny Sunday, when, his doctor having permitted him to go to church, he chose to walk by the way of the building-ground. As he was not very quick in his movements, he had left the Hollies early that he might have ample time for his walk, and, to his great satis faction, just as he was wondering whether he should see them, the door opened, and the whole family came out in single file.

First was a matron, though still a young-looking one, followed by a little child, who was immediately lifted into the arms of a young servant girl, who came next; then followed six boys, the eldest looking as if he had some notions of approaching manhood. Last of all came the father, a thin, tall, and rather cadaverous-looking man, of a very grave aspect, and though scrupulously neat, not over well dressed. He locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and taking the two least of the children, one in each hand, brought up the rear.

They all passed before Sir Herbert, who looked at them most inquisitively, though they were not aware of it; but upon the father himself it was that he fixed his most searching gaze. That, however, was quite lost upon the object of it, who gave his whole attention to guiding his two little companions safely through the difficulties of their path till they reached the causeway.

"Seven children!" said Sir Herbert to himself, "a man and his wife, seven children, and a servant! How in the world can they all live there? Surely the children must sleep in the chimney, or hang out of windows like canary birds in cages!"

And all that day, and many days after, he was continually reverting to the mystery, and trying to solve it, how ten human beings could live in that house.

On inquiring of his barber, who had inquired for the sake of his customer, Sir Herbert learnt that his neighbour's name was Terence; that he was a clerk to some mining works; that from his way of life he was considered to be very poor, but very respectable, and very little more was known about him.

The baronet found out that Mr. Terence left his house early every morning, and returned to it at about half-past four in the evening. He so shaped his afternoon walk as frequently to meet with him on his return, when he himself was going up to the Hollies to prepare for a late dinner.

He had met him so often that he knew, at last, every line of his face, and although not aware of it, had taken a great fancy to it. It was a face with little pretention to beauty, either in colour, form, or feature, and yet it pleased the baronet to look on it.

"All

"I never saw such a satisfied-looking fellow," he would think to himself, as he passed him, and every time he did so the impression strengthened. those children-hard work every day, every week, and such a house to live in! He's a regular curiosity; he looks as satisfied as if he had my fortune, no cares, and lived at the Hollies. Had Sir Herbert been able to recognize the work of the Spirit in the peace that shone in the good man's face, he would have been spared many of his after-speculations concerning him; but he was a stranger to such an art, though no one in the least acquainted with it could have failed to see that

Mr. Terence had been more than a year at No. 1, but beyond an intimate acquaintance with his physiognomy, Sir Herbert and he were strangers to each other; though it must be said also that the baronet's person had made its impression on the mining company's clerk; but his mind was generally too full of his business and his family in the week, and of other things on Sunday, to allow him often to stray in his thoughts to matters so very irrelevant as the face of Sir Herbert. In the morning he had the interests of the firm on his hands-how best to work, how best to arrange his work. Some matter of commercial importance, more or less, on which to ponder, would occupy him; and he would walk on as upright as a dart, briskly using his stick for its legitimate purpose, as if all the forces must now be called steadily to bear on the business of life; but there was no care in his face in the most serious of his mornings. When work was at its highest pressure, and he had most to dwell upon, he did not look as if he feared his work, or went to it in a grudging spirit. On the contrary, no Oxford student ever went forth to use his oars-no pleasurehunter of any kind ever started with more appetite for his enterprise than did Tertius Terence for his counting-house, every morning of his life from Monday to Saturday. When he returned from it, he walked more leisurely, at times looking over some small book, or pamphlet, or picture perhaps, which he was bringing for the delectation of his wife or children; his stick, then, he was apt to twirl with a free and careless air, and his face had gone into a restful expression, not weary, but satisfied with labour, and pleased with coming repose.

Yet now and then, as we have said, he gave a glance at Sir Herbert; it was months before he knew who ho was, but every look he gave impressed him more and more strongly with the conviction that he was some old man very much to be pitied. His face was to him like a lantern with no light in it, joyless; and there was a yearning expression, that seemed to say, "Oh, give me comfort, give me peace!"

"Poor old man! whoever he is, I am very sorry for him. I wish I could do anything to help him; I quite grieve to see his miserable face." Thus he would think when he passed him.

He was told at last that the old gentleman who was so fond of promenading before his house, and on the ridge of the building ground, was Sir Herbert Carteret, of the Hollies, worth thousands a-year, a widower, without children.

"Poor man! I do pity him indeed," said Tertius; "no children, and a widower! Oh, I am sorry for

him."

The Hollies, and thousands a year, did not stand out in his thoughts as competent consolations.

One day in March (the second that had seen No. 1 inhabited), the wind was doing " the lion" very vigorously, and when Tertius came home he had enough to do to keep his hat on, as he walked across the causeway that led from the road over the building ground to his house. Just as he had reached his door, a broad-brimmed hat came rolling towards him, and gave him a chase to prevent it from settling itself in a hole with a pool in it. Having caught it, his next object was to find the owner; there he stood on the road, looking very rueful, with a large silk handkerchief

to him, and presented the reclaimed hat with a profound bow. Sir Herbert (for he it was) returned it with thanks, and from that day, the ice being broken, words were interchanged as well as looks.

Summer came. The baronet had been greatly ruffled in his temper and spirits by a family occurrence, and had scarcely been seen walking out for more than a month. On his first emerging into the golden sunshine, he was to be seen pacing slowly before Paradise Row, with a more bilious skin and heavier brow than ever. He had nearly finished his walk, when he saw Tertius Terence coming from the town path towards home. He hesitated; he didn't feel in a temper to speak; he half turned back to give him time to get into his house before he wanted to pass; but Tertius had no mind to be cut; he walked briskly up, and putting some little parcels in whitey-brown paper, which had filled his hands, into his pocket, he took off his hat with the most courteous sympathy, and begged to know how Sir Herbert was after his long absence, which he was afraid had been from illness.

The baronet was touched by the kindness, and gratified by the respect. He muttered something about not having been ill, but having had unpleasant affairs. Oh, I am sorry," said Tertius," very sorry. What different experiences we have! While you have been visited by affliction, I have received great mercy, which has been a well-spring of joy to me, I may say." "I hope you

"Glad to hear it," said the baronet. have had a fortune left you?" Tertius smiled, and shook his head. that," he said, "I am quite sure."

"A better berth? rise in your office?"

66

"Better than

Oh, no. I see you won't guess, sir. How can you? My dear wife has presented me with a daughter all my others are sons-but now I have a daughter, and I look forward to the great comfort she will be to her mother and me-the Lord sparing us-when she is grown up, and our days are declining."

"Humph!" said Sir Herbert, "I should have thought you had had enough of such blessings already."

Enough till Divine Goodness vouchsafed us another, sir," replied Tertius, with reproving gravity. "You are a very odd man," said the baronet. "Most people would consider a new-comer no advantage in a house like yours."

"Like mine!" answered Tertius, turning and surveying No. 1 with an air of surprise. "Pray, may I ask, sir, what is the matter with my house?”

"And this undrained water," he said; "perhaps you consider that an advantage," and he smiled ironically.

"Yes, it was; for it lowered the rent. I don't know that I could have afforded to pay the rent if there had been no drawback. And really it is far less unpleasant than people fancy, and they are going to clear the pond, I am told, and that will remove the evil, which, however, is exaggerated greatly."

"You seem to have got the philosopher's stone, you turn it all to gold," said Sir Herbert. "But I should think, although you don't like close neighbours, a few trees about you would help to shelter you from the keen winds; that day that you picked up my hat, for instance, what a rattling of windows and shaking of your chimney you must have had ?”

"True, very true," said Terence, reflectively; "but," and he turned round to take in the house and all its bearings, "trees too close are smothering. Now you see, sir, we have the full advantage of the grove up at the Hollies, for there is nothing to intercept the view. I greatly prefer trees in the distance- -so does my wife; but that reminds me-my wife-she is expecting me, I know, and I have a few little delicacies here which I am in haste to take to her; therefore you will, I know, excuse me. I rejoice to see you out, and am glad you have not been kept in by illness."

So saying, with ancther deferential bow, he was about to leave, when the baronet cried out—

"You ought to take out a patent for condensing. Eleven people in No. 1! I can't get over it."

"Take it thus, sir, and you will soon be able: We are truly cleven bodies, but then we are all of one mind, and that is a capital help to comfort and convenience." And without waiting for more, he turned towards the house.

So, an eighth child a blessing to a poor creature that has to work like a galley slave for his bread; and No. 1 is full of conveniences; and my trees at the Hollies are more valuable to them, being at a distance, than to me, being close; and instead of looking more starved because he has an extra mouth to feed, he comes home with his pocket full of dainties for madam and the baby! What a world it is! I believe half the people are crazy, this fellow among the rest."

Nevertheless, when Sir Herbert Carteret sat in his splendid solitude that night, and looked down towards the building ground, and watched the twinkling of the light that trembled like a star of no magnitude from the attic window in No. 1, he had a misgiving that poor, Tertius Terence was more enviable than the rich and titled owner of the Hollies.

SKETCHES OF THE POOR.

BY A RETIRED GUARDIAN.

I. THE BLIND GIRL.

FANNY C was the only child of very decent respectable parents; her father was a forgeman, working in the neighbourhood of Birmingham. He was a

his wife an industrious prudent woman, they had managed to accumulate a little fund which they had placed in the savings bank. Their great object was to give their only child as good an education as their means warranted; and to endeavour, both by precept and example, to bring her up in a religious and moral

manner.

She was sent to the day and Sunday school at an early age, and being naturally a girl of much quickness and considerable ability, she soon made very satisfactory progress, so that at fourteen she was selected to be an assistant teacher.

Fanny was on the whole a good, amiable girl, but exceedingly impulsive and hasty. She had been carefully and prudently trained, and had a good head knowledge of Scripture; but its real influence on the heart, subsequent events too plainly proved had not yet been experienced. She was a special favourite with the clergyman in whose schools she laboured, and he noticed and encouraged her.

I will give her future history as gathered from her own words.

She was now seventeen, and up to that time was not conscious she had given her parents any cause for anxiety, but she unfortunately became acquainted with the daughters of some neighbours, gay, thoughtless girls, who ridiculed her religious opinions, laughed at her scruples, and counselled her to enjoy herself while she was young. Old age, they said, was the time for religion and all that kind of thing; youth was never intended for so much seriousness; if she persevered in it, her health and spirits would be sacrificed, and she would become a gloomy being fit only for a nunnery. On several occasions Fanny was induced to accompany these companions to scenes where all was gaiety and pleasure, and she began to think her companions were right, and the good clergyman and her mistress prejudiced and mistaken.

The evil influences of such associations as these soon manifested themselves in her daily life at the school: the work which before was a delight, a labour of love, now became an unbearable drudgery; she became impatient of the necessary confinement, sighed for her liberty, and when the school hours were over, rushed to the society of her new friends, and greedily drank in the moral poison they were ever ready to pour into her mind.

This great change had not escaped the notice of the mistress, who remonstrated with her; but finding this of no avail she mentioned it to the minister. He reasoned with her seriously, but kindly, on the impropriety of her conduct, and the inevitable result which must follow a perseverance in it. Fanny loved her good pastor, and was deoply distressed at the pain she had caused him. She promised amendment; and for a few days her conduct in the school was all that could be desired; but her companions' evil counsel again prevailed; trusting to her own strength to resist the temptation, she miserably failed.

She was now nineteen, a strong, good-looking girl, who had never known any serious illness. At this time small-pox made its appearance in the village; it extended to the school, and several of the children fell victims to the disease. At length Fanny herself was attacked most violently; for many days there was a struggle between life and death. The danger was at last over, but her sight was lost. Her parents were overwhelmed with grief, and bitterly reproached them