tinued to point her hope to the realms of immortality. She made frequent signs of delight and satisfaction in the blessed truths of the Gospel, and several times, by brief and low whispers, for her voice was now scarcely audible, testified her firm reliance on the grace of the Mediator. Once more I commended her to Him who had made affliction so profitable to her soul; and when I took my leave, she expressed, once for all, the delightful satisfaction she felt in the prospect of being speedily released from sin and suffering, and admitted to the presence of the Lord Jesus. She continued, through part of the night, to suffer much bodily anguish, and to labour hard with the dreadful disease which was rapidly destroying her lungs, but occasionally expressed to a Christian friend who remained with her the cheerful and blessed hope of glory which filled her soul. It had dawned already, and at last it burst in its full light and lustre upon her enraptured heart. She expired early in the morning, full of faith and triumphant joy.

I am aware that the brief narrative I have here presented, may appear to many by no means extraordinary: and that similar cases, as to the leading circumstances, may have occurred to others; nor should I have given it publicity, but for the sake of one particular in it, which specially interested myself. It appeared to me to be a signal display of the power of that Word of the Lord which "is perfect, converting the soul." It was a salvation effected without the intervention of any of the ordinary means, except the use of the Scriptures; and it supplies an argument for the distribution of that Word of life, which is frequently the silent but powerful instrument of saving the souls of men.

To ministers who know what it is to labour for months, perhaps for years, with but little or no evidences of success, I shall be understood when I say, this sudden and interesting occurrence had upon me the effect of a powerful stimulus, and a sweet refreshment. In the midst of hard labours and numerous discouragements, it seemed to smile upon the dreariness of my path, like a solitary rose upon a heath, and though that rose was now withered, its fragrance long remained behind.

RUSSIA AND THE GREEK CHURCH. BY THE REV. A. THOMSON, A.B., EDINBURGH.

In their ecclesiastical constitution, in their monastic establishments, as well as in many of their forms of worship, the Greek and Romish Churches bear a very close resemblance to each other. The absurdity of transubstantiation is held in common. The invocation of the Virgin and the saints, as well as image-worship, are practised by both with an almost equally abject superstition. Sacerdotal absolution is

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maintained in both communions; and, as a matter of consistency, both hold the efficacy ex opere operato of the sacraments.

On the other hand, the Greek Church favourably differs from her Roman sister in the rejection of that cruel and profitable instrument of priestly power, the pretended sacrament of extreme unction; in allowing the elements of both kinds to the laity in the celebration of the eucharist; in strongly testifying against the doctrine of purgatory; and in so far modifying the practice of image-worship as to allow only the use of paintings in her churches. The prohibition to marry, which has been so deadly a fountain of immorality in the Romish Church, does not extend in the Greek Church except to the bishops. But the most important points of difference remain, and in these we see the germs of hope and renovation to the Greek communion. 1. The free use of the Holy Scriptures by the people; a practice ever discountenanced by the Church of Rome, except where expediency has seemed to require a temporary relaxation of her rigour, but which is not only permitted, but encouraged in the Greek communion. 2. The more evangelical character of her creeds and catechisms, which, however widely departed from by many of her teachers, may yet afford legiti mate ground of appeal. 3. And lastly, the indignant denial of the infallibility of the Roman pontiff; a presumptuous and impious claim, which the Greek Church has never in any period of her history set up for her own patriarch. Some of these points of difference may appear comparatively trivial, but others are confessedly of such importance as to bring the Greek Church many degrees nearer to those of the Reformation, and to make evident the utter unfairness of classing the two Churches together, as equally hopeless and apostate, and banding them in a common condemnation. There appears to our mind to be a gulf-would it were wider!between them. The Church of Rome is like the leprous house, every stone of which must be taken down; the Greek is like a tree, many of whose thickest branches are indeed rotten and dead, and must be lopped off, but whose roots yet strike down into a favourable soil, and in whose stem there yet flow some of the juices of a diviner life. There is hope concerning this tree, that "with the scent of water it will yet bud and flourish." May it not be affirmed that the disease in the one is organic and incurable, but in the other functional? So, at least, thought Philip Melancthon, who, while denouncing the Church of Rome, with an indignation that stirred even his mild nature; held friendly and hopeful correspondence with some of the dignitaries in the Eastern Churches.

In like manner, the history of the Greek Church, when compared with that of Rome, presents similar points of resemblance and of contrast, so as, on the whole, to present fewer of the features of Antichrist. Most of our readers

are aware that the final separation between these two Churches took place about the middle of the ninth century. Beginning in a theological controversy about the well-known phrase filioque in the Nicene Creed, it was consummated by a struggle for power between the pope of Rome and the patriarch of Constantinople the highest ecclesiastic of the East. For some centuries after the introduction of the Greek faith into Russia, this patriarch appointed the Metropolitan Bishop of Russia. But at length, when Constantinople, the seat of the Eastern patriarchate, fell into the hands of the Mussulmans, and thereby was shorn of much of its ancient splendour, the pride of Russia would no longer submit to receive her patriarch from such hands. Accordingly, in a council held at Moscow in 1589, the Pontiff of Constantinople was constrained to place at the head of the Russian Church and nation an independent patriarch in the person of the Metropolitan of Moscow. From that time till the reign of Peter the Great —that is, for a period of considerably more than a hundred years we behold a succession of encroachments on the legitimate province of the civil ruler, and a restless and insatiable grasping at the wealth and honours of the empire, bearing in many respects so close and literal a resemblance to what had already been enacted in the Roman Church, that we seem, in perusing the history of these patriarchal usurpations, to have stumbled by mistake on a volume of the History of the Popes.

Revenues flowed into the treasury of the Greek Church, from earth and sea-from the marts of commerce and from the courts of justice. In many of the departments of law, the bishops claimed exclusive jurisdiction; monastery and hospital, monk and midwife, physician and usurer, yea, the very weights and measures of the empire, were placed under episcopal superintendence. Not content with the riches conferred on them by royal favour, or by royal fear, they employed all the terrors of the world to come at the death-beds of the opulent, feeding the fatal imagination that great riches might procure exemption from the punishment of great sins, and that the transgressions of a life might be counterbalanced by a dying bequest to a monastery. Even the statutes of the realm were sent forth not only with the name of the czar, but "according to the benediction of our Father the Patriarch of Moscow and of all Russia." At length the ecclesiastical chair threw its shadow over the imperial throne, and the czar was beheld doing homage to the patriarch. The patriarch rode on Palm-sunday in procession through the city, and the czar led the horse on which he was seated. On the feast of All Saints the patriarch dined with the czar, and the latter stood at the table and served him!

These were monstrous usurpations, and the hour of righteous retribution at length arrived. The bold spirit of Peter the Great, who, in his

youth, had more than once stooped to these humiliating indignities, at length revolted at such infatuated assumptions, and he determined to level with the dust the rival dignity. The greater portion of its rich endowments were wrested from the grasp of the Church. The patriarchate was abolished, and the Holy Synod, consisting of twelve ecclesiastical dignitaries, substituted in its stead. The Empress Catherine II. completed what Peter had begun; the power of the Holy Synod was declared subject to the control of the throne, its decisions were henceforth to be emitted in the name of the czar, while the immovable property of the clergy and Church being appropriated to the crown, they were re duced to a state of poverty, and fettered by bonds which now give her right to complain, in her turn, of the encroachments and insults of the civil power. The step from Hildebrandism to Erastianism, though seemingly violent, is yet natural and retributive. The Greek Church, which had sat as a queen, and fared sumptuously every day, is now a degraded vassal and mendicant, destined, we trust, to learn, in the bitterness of her bonds, those lessons which she refused to learn on the lap of luxury, and in the seat of power.*

But while the historic resemblance between the two Churches has been so close in this respect, there is another important feature in which it is pleasing to think the Greek Church comes out more favourably from the comparison-I refer to the fact of its more tolerant spirit towards the members of other Churches. This may in part arise from the circumstance that neither its patriarch nor its Holy Synod has ever put forth the arrogant claim of infallibility, or denied that salvation may be obtained without the pale of her own com munion. No doubt, as we shall have immediate occasion to show, there have not been wanting the less severe forms of intolerance; but when we are drawing a comparison between her and her Roman sister, it is something to be able to say that she has never persecuted unto the death, and that while Rome has ascended to power over the graves of martyrs and confessors, and sought to extinguish truth in the blood of its friends, she can stand, though not with undefiled, at least with bloodless hands. The Church history of the East tells of no St Bartholo mew's eve; nor did the Greek Church, even in her wildest hour of arrogant usurpation, imagine to herself that most atrocious engine of myste rious deaths and lingering tortures-the Inquisition.

And yet it must be conceded that, even in this respect, the difference between Rome and Russia, between the College of Cardinals and the Holy Synod, is one rather of degrees than of essence; for the very imperfect toleration which prevails throughout the Russian empire, growing out of no sound or enlightened

*Conder-Pinkerton.

principles, may be curtailed or even extinguished at any hour. How imperfect, for example, must that toleration be which, while it permits great latitude of opinion within the pale of the Greek Church, will not allow the party who has been born in it to leave it; and while allowing the presence of dissentients from it to reside in the Russian territory, visits with restriction and penalty all attempts to circulate their opinions, and will not allow the humble and conscientious sectary the privilege, not to say the justice, of defending himself when assailed. There is one fact mentioned by Dr Pinkerton in his Travels which will convey a more vivid and correct idea than any mere general statement, of the very partial and unsatisfactory nature of the toleration extended by the emperor to those without the pale of the Greek communion. It seems to be the common effect of great superstition and pomp in forms of religious worship, to drive thinking men to the opposite extreme of rejecting all forms whatever. We have an example of this, in a very interesting sect called the Duchobartsi, who, driven from the Greek Church by disgust at many of its superstitions, and very closely resembling in their practices and tenets the Society of Friends among ourselves, became extremely obnoxious to the Greek pastors, especially by their solemn and energetic protests against their superstitious observances. What was to be done to extinguish this dangerous proselytism? The scheme was truly Russian-worthy of the court which condemns men of enlightened sentiments in politics, unwarned and untried, to slave-labour in the Siberian mines. No scaffolds were erected, or fires of martyrdom kindled. Russian despotism avoids with cautious instinct the severest forms of intolerance. The members of this sect were commanded to assemble on a certain day from all quarters of the empire, on the banks of the River Molochnia and the shores of the Sea of Asoff. They were formed, by order of the emperor, into a colony of eight villages, and forbidden, on the risk of the severest penalties, to wander from their district, or to attempt the extension of their faith. Even after this was done, this interesting community, though easily distinguished from the common Russian peasantry by their neat dress, comfortable huts, industrious habits, numerous flocks, and well-cultivated fields, were exposed to constant danger from the plots and intrigues of base informers seeking to betray them into actions, or to provoke them to the use of language, that might bring them within the complicated meshes of the law, and expose them to yet severer penalties. Religious liberty, in such circumstances, is only in the first stage of its development, and seems rather a precarious accident than an essential element in the social condition of Russia. In the midst, then, of so many sombre details and discouraging features, do we dare to hope at all? What is the anticipation for the future that we may

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legitimately form? We shall endeavour to reply to this question in our next and concluding article.

THE TWO SISTERS.

(From a recent Letter by Madame Feller of the Grand Ligne Mission.)

FREQUENT changes occur in our family circle. A short time since we parted with one of its members, who had been with us for five years and a-half, and

This

whom we tenderly loved. It was the daughter of our good old Raphael, who was married to one of our young brethren, engaged for three years past in the missionary work, as an evangelical teacher. marriage gave us great pleasure, because we were sure that she would be an important and valued assistant in her husband's labours. Her heart was all alive to the work, and glowing with the desire to communicate to others the blessings which she had received. But although one of our daughters was thus removed from us, God has given us in her place another, whom it is sweet to prepare for his service. I will relate the circumstances by which she was Sophronie L- belonged to one of brought to us. the respectable families in our vicinity. She was twelve years old when two of her brothers, who had attended our schools, renounced Papacy, and embraced the Gospel. She participated in the evil feelings indulged by her parents at the time of this change, which they considered the greatest possible calamity. Sophronie thenceforward could only look upon her brothers as if they were demons, and was greatly afflicted; for her heart was naturally tender and affectionate, and she had been much attached to them. She continued to be very unhappy on the subject for a year, but at the end of that time she could not but remark that her brothers had improved by the change. It was with fear and mistrust that she at first heard all that they said of the Word of God, whence they drew all their arguments in support of their renunciation of Romanism. By hearing and reading the Bible for herself, she at last came to the conclusion that her brothers were in the right way, and this conviction created great anguish of mind in regard to her own condition. She frequently passed whole nights without sleep, terrified at the thought of death, which might surprise her before her conversion. She only saw her brothers occasionally, because they did not live in the same place; but when they came home to see their parents, she would pass a large portion of the night in talking to them of that Gospel which she loved, and longed to understand. Sophronie was in this state when she reached her fifteenth year, and had not the power to conceal from her parents her inclination to follow in the footsteps of her brothers. Her father manifested no displeasure; for he was well acquainted with the errors of Romanism. Her mother was, however, differently affected, and employed every effort to bring her into conformity to the Church of Rome, and also another daughter a few years older, who was almost as deeply impressed as Sophronie. The latter had only been at short intervals in the indifferent

and temporary schools of their neighbourhood, but had always manifested a great desire to qualify herself to be a teacher of a school. Her mother and some other individuals of her family, who were very bigoted, and greatly under the influence of the priests, concluded that the best method of alienating these young women from us (for they sometimes visited us), and of putting them beyond the influence of their brothers, and of the Gospel, was to send them to a convent, where they might receive the education which they desired so greatly. The arrangements were soon made. Two cures in the neighbourhood agreed to pay their board, and represented to them the advantages of the instruction which they would receive in the convent, and the great obligations they were under in enjoying it gratuitously. It was a severe struggle for these young girls. Their understandings, enlightened by the Gospel, could not but appreciate the loss they would suffer, in being deprived of sound instruction, and in only hearing and seeing error and superstition; but they had a strong desire for knowledge, and believed that a residence with us was out of the question. They were surrounded by priests, who employed every means to convince them, and to induce them to go to the convent. Their relatives, who were zealous Romanists, implored them-their mother insisted, commanded, and even threatened them, in case of their not complying; and the young women, at last wearied out in the contest, and flattering themselves with the idea that it was possible to hold fast the truth which they had received, consented. It was determined by Romish sagacity that the two sisters should be separated, by being placed in different convents; but as there were approaching vacancies, some delay in their admission occurred, and they were both placed, for a time, in a convent of the Sisters of Charity. There they realized the miseries of being in darkness. "No Gospel, no Jesus," said these dear girls to us on their return, but only the Virgin, whom they adored, and to whom they directed us. One day the sisters expressed their discontent to the bishop, who recommended them to the Virgin for consolation. But how, said they to each other, can we pray to a being in whom we do not believe? and they prayed to the God of the Gospel, and implored him to deliver them from the snare into which they had fallen. The thought of being compelled to remain in this situation was agonizing. They passed there three long weeks of anguish; and then finding it no longer supportable, they asked permission to return to their parents, promising themselves never more to go where they would hear nothing of Jesus or of his Word. Some days after their return home, it was proposed to send them to the convents to which they had been previously assigned. The eldest ventured to express her determination not to go, and the mother irritated by her refusal, insisted at least upon the compliance of Sophronie. Trembling, and fearing to displease her mother, she did not dare to declare her wishes, but awaited in prayer the day appointed for her departure. This dear child was not alone in her supplications. We, as well as her brothers, ceased not to cry unto God for her, and he answered our pray

ers by sending upon her, just at the last moment, a severe illness, from which she did not recover for several weeks. Then, fortified in mind, she told her mother that she would never go to a convent, and that she had made up her mind to come to us, and receive the instruction which she needed. Her mother, fearing the notoriety consequent upon such a step, did all she could to prevent it, and told her daughter that she would never see her face again, if she carried her purpose into execution. Sophronie, who had already experienced the bitterness of living beyond the influence of the Gospel, felt that for its sake she ought now even to forsake the mother whom she loved. She had just reached her sixteenth year, when one day, while her mother was sleeping, she' left the paternal roof for ours, with the single object of saving her own soul, and qualifying herself to become the teacher of the children of her people.

Since her arrival among us, she has been like "a bird escaped out of the snare of the fowlers," and the first use which she made of the blessed light and liberty into which she had entered was to seek her Saviour, whom she speedily found. Her hungry and thirsty soul was at once satisfied in him, and her happiness and joy were overflowing. She has been with us more than four months, and her heart, filled with love and gratitude, ceases not to praise the God of her salvation. This dear child affords us, from her promising character, much satisfaction and hope. She is intelligent and amiable; and her artless and confiding disposition facilitates everything in regard to her, and gives good promise of her future Christian course.

DEATHS OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

The Rev. Richard Baxter, when near the close of his course, exclaimed, "I have pains-there is no arguing against sense; but I have peace, I have peace." "You are now drawing near your long desired home," said one. "I believe, I believe," was his reply. When asked "How are you?" he promptly answered, "ALMOST WELL!" To a friend who entered the chamber he said, "I thank you, I thank you for com ing." Then fixing his eye upon him, he added, "The Lord teach you how to die!" These were his last words.

Another said, "Dying is hard work; but DEATH IS DELIGHTFUL."

old age, one morning, after breakfasting with his family, reclined a while in his chair, silently meditating. Suddenly he spoke: "Daughter, hark! doth not my Master call me?" Asking for his Bible, he perceived that his eyes were dim, and that he could said he, "the 8th chapter of Romans, and lay my no longer read its precious words. "Find for me," death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor finger on the passage, I am persuaded that neither powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Now, is my finger placed upon these blessed words?" Being assured that it was, he said, "Then God bless you, God bless you all, dear children. I have refreshed myself with you this morning, and shall be at the banquet of my Saviour ere it is night." And thus he died.

The Rev. Robert Bruce having lived to a venerable