hast revealed them unto babes. Even so be it, Father, since so it seemeth good in Thy sight." That retreat of the spirit to its God turns the whole currents of the Saviour's mind. They are no longer" sicklied over by pale" experience, but strong in the Lord, and in the power of His grace. He is again the Saviour, with overtures of peace from Heaven; the sent in love; the seeker of the lost. Depression might cross him, but he knew his Father in Heaven too well not to bear his heart out of these shadows, and place it beneath the brightness that ever beameth from Him. It was enough. It was enough. To think of God was again to be revived, again to be His Christ, strong in hope. "The Son knoweth the Father." Once more goes forth the thrilling appeal of undesponding love; "Come unto me ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. My yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Of Mr. Milman's tendency to a rationalistic interpretation, we give the following indication:

"Now the dreadful earthquake which followed, seemed to pass away without appalling the enemies of Jesus. The rending of the veil of the Temple from the top to the bottom, so strikingly significant of the approaching abolition of the local worship, would either be concealed by the priesthood, or attributed as a natural effect to the convulsion of the earth. The same convulsion would displace the stones which covered the ancient tombs, and lay open many of the innumerable rock-hewn sepulchres which perforated the hills on every side of the city, and expose the dead to public view. To the awe-struck and depressed minds of the followers of Jesus, no doubt, were confined those visionary appearances of the spirits of their deceased brethren, which are obscurely intimated in the rapid narratives of the Evangelists."

The design with which Mr. Milman pursues the History after the death of Jesus, we must exhibit in his own words,and in addition we can do little more than assure our readers that they will find him a most impartial and instructive guide :

"As a universal Religion, aspiring to the complete moral conquest of the world, Christianity had to encounter three antagonists, Judaism, Paganism, and Orientalism. It is our design successively to exhibit the conflict with these opposing forces, its final triumph not without detriment to its own native purity, and its divine simplicity from the interworking of the yet unsubdued elements of the former systems into the Christian mind; until each, at successive periods, and at different parts of the world, formed a modification of Christianity equally removed from its unmingled and unsullied original: the Judeo-Christianity of Palestine, of which the Ebionites appear to have been the last representatives; the Platonic Christianity of Alexandria, as, at least at this

early period, the new religion could coalesce only with the sublimer and more philosophical principles of Paganism; and, lastly, the Gnostic Christianity of the East."

There is often great ingenuity, combined with a most lively realization of the fleeting opinions and phases of a period, in the skill with which Mr. Milman discovers the causes of mysterious impressions and events in the characters and habits of thinking among those concerned. To account for the imputation to the Christians of the burning of Rome, under Nero, with the dreadful hatred and persecution of the Christians it excited, there is the following clever, if fanciful, suggestion:

"We have sometimes thought it possible that incautious or misinterpreted expressions of the Christians themselves might have attracted the blind resentment of the people. The minds of the Christians were constantly occupied with the terrific images of the final coming of the Lord to judgment in fire; the conflagration of the world was the expected consummation, which they devoutly supposed to be instantly at hand. When therefore they saw the great metropolis of the world, the city of pride, of sensuality, of idolatry, of bloodshed, blazing like a fiery furnace before their eyes-the Babylon of the West wrapped in one vast sheet of destroying flame, the more fanatical-the Jewish part of the community-may have looked on with something of fierce hope and eager anticipation; expressions almost triumphant may have burst from unguarded lips. They may have attributed the ruin to the righteous vengeance of the Lord; it may have seemed the opening of that kingdom which was to commence with the discomfiture, the desolation of heathenism, and to conclude with the establishment of the millennial kingdom of Christ. Some of these, in the first instance, apprehended and examined, may have made acknowledgments before a passionate and astonished tribunal, which would lead to the conclusion that, in the hour of general destruction, they had some trust, some security, denied to the rest of mankind; and this exemption from common misery, if it would not mark them out in some dark manner, as the authors of the conflagration, at all events would convict them of that hatred of the human race so often advanced against the Jews."(Vol. ii. p. 37.)

Ecclesiastical History is generally considered a dark record of crime, and passion, and blood. The influences of religion on individual feelings are matters of which history takes no note. It is the daring crime, the outrageous extravagance, the startling heresy, that summons the attention of the world. The kingdom of God, at all times cometh not with observation,for the kingdom of God is within us. "The most divine fruits of Christianity," says Tholock, "like those of the private Christian, blossom in secret. As Nature is noisy only when she

rends asunder, but is silent when she brings forth; so it is the abuse of divine power which is more narrated in history; while none know its blessed influences, except only the sufferer who is refreshed, and the angel who numbers his dried tears. And who is there that has ever sat by, as a curious spectator, at that exhibition which of all others is the greatest in the kingdom of God, when the heart falls into rebellion against itself, and flaming desire, and smouldering rancour, amid infinite contests, are extinguished by the tears of a humility which lies low before God!" Whenever, therefore, "a glimpse is afforded of lowlier and of more common life, it is perhaps best fulfilling its office of presenting a lively picture of the times, if it allows itself occasionally some more minute detail, and illustrates the manner in which the leading events of particular periods affected individuals not in the highest station."

"Of all the histories of martyrdom, none is so unexaggerated in its tone and language, so entirely unencumbered with miracle; none abounds in such exquisite touches of nature, or on the whole, from its minuteness and circumstantiality, breathes such an air of truth and reality, as that of Perpetua and Felicitas, two African females. Their death is ascribed to the year of the accession of Geta (A. D. 202), the son of Severus. Though there was no general persecution at that period, yet, as the Christians held their lives at all times liable to the outburst of popular resentment or the caprice of an arbitrary proconsul, there is much probability that a time of general rejoicing might be that in which the Christians, who were always accused of a disloyal reluctance to mingle in the popular festivities, and who kept aloof from the public sacrifices on such anniversaries, would be most exposed to persecution. The youthful Catechumens, Revocatus and Felicitas, Saturninus and Secundulus were apprehended, and with them Vivia Perpetua, a woman of good family, liberal education, and honourably married. Perpetua was about twenty-two years old; her father and mother were living; she had two brothers-one of them, like herself, a Catechumen-and an infant at her breast. The history of the martyrdom is related by Perpetua herself, and is said to have been written by her own hand :When we were in the hands of the persecutors, my father, in his tender affection, persevered in his endeavours to pervert me from the faith. 66 My father, this vessel, be it a pitcher or any thing else, can we call it by any other name?" " Certainly not," he replied. "Nor can I call myself by any name but that of Christian." My father looked as if he could have plucked my eyes out; but he only harassed me and departed. Then after being a few days without seeing my father, I was enabled to give thanks to God, and his absence was tempered to my spirit. After a few days we were baptized, and the waters of baptism seemed to give power of endurance to my body. Again a few days, and we were cast into prison. I was terrified; for I had never before seen such total darkness. O miserable day!—from the dreadful heat of the prisoners crowded together, and the

insults of the soldiers. But I was wrung with solicitude for my infant. Two of our deacons, however, by the payment of money, obtained our removal for some hours in the day to a more open part of the prison. Each of the captives then pursued his usual occupation; but I sat, and suckled my infant, who was wasting away with hunger. In my anxiety, I addressed and consoled my mother, and commended my child to my brother; and I began to pine away at seeing them pine away on my account. And for many days I suffered this anxiety, and accustomed my child to remain in the prison with me; and I immediately recovered my strength, and was relieved from my toil and trouble for my infant, and the prison became to me like a palace; and I was happier there than I should have been any where else.

My brother then said to me, "Perpetua, you are exalted to such dignity, that you may pray for a vision, and it shall be shown to you whether our doom is martyrdom or release.' This is the language of Montanism; but the vision is exactly that which might haunt the slumbers of the Christian in a high state of religious enthusiasm ; it showed merely the familiar images of the faith, arranging themselves in form. She saw a lofty ladder of gold, ascending to heaven; around it were swords, lances, hooks; and a great dragon lay at its foot, to seize those who would ascend. Saturus, a distinguished Christian, went up first; beckoned her to follow; and controlled the dragon by the name of Jesus Christ. She ascended and found herself in a spacious garden, in which sate a man with white hair, in the garb of a shepherd, milking his sheep, with many myriads around him. He welcomed her, and gave her a morsel of cheese; and I received it with folded hands, and ate it, and all the saints around exclaimed, "amen." I awoke at the sound, with the sweet taste in my mouth, and I related it to my brother: and we knew that our martyrdom was at hand, and we began to have no hope in this world.'

66 "

And

After a few days there was a rumour that we were to be heard. my father came from the city, wasted away with anxiety to pervert me; and he said, Have compassion, O my daughter! on my grey hairs; have compassion on thy father, if he is worthy of the name of father. If I have thus brought thee up to the flower of thine age; if I have preferred thee to all thy brothers; do not expose me to this disgrace. Look on thy brother; look on thy mother and thy aunt; look on thy child who cannot live without thee. Do not destroy us all." Thus spake my father, kissing my hands in his fondness, and throwing himself at my feet; and in his tears, he called me not his daughter, but his mistress (domina). And I was grieved for the grey hairs of my father, because he alone, of all our family, did not rejoice in my martyrdom and I consoled him, saying, "In this trial, what God wills, will take place. Know that we are not in our own power, but in that of God! And he went away sorrowing.

:

'Another day, while we were at dinner, we were suddenly seized and carried off to trial; and we came to the town. The report spread rapidly, and an immense multitude was assembled. We were placed at

the bar; the rest were interrogated, and made their confession. And it

came to my turn; and my father instantly appeared with my child, and he drew me down the step, and said in a beseeching tone, “Have compassion on your infant,”—and Hilarianus, the procurator, who exercised the power of life and death for the proconsul Trinianus, who had died, said, “ Spare the grey hairs of your parent; spare your infant; offer sacrifice for the welfare of the Emperor." And I answered, “ I will not sacrifice." "Art thou a Christian?” said Hilarianus; I answered; “I am a Christian.” And while my father stood there to persuade me, Hilarianus ordered him to be thrust down and beaten with rods. And the misfortune of my father grieved me; and I was as much grieved for his old age as if I had been scourged myself. He then passed sentence on us all, and condemned us to the wild beasts; and we went back in cheerfulness to the prison. And because I was accustomed to suckle my infant, and to keep it with me in the prison, I sent Pomponius the deacon to seek it from my father. But my father would not send it; but, by the will of God, the child no longer desired the breast, and I suffered no uneasiness; lest at such a time I should be afflicted by the sufferings of my child, or by pains in my breast.'

“The narrative then proceeds to another instance of the triumph of faith over the strongest of human feelings, the love of a young mother for her offspring. Felicitas was in the eighth month of her pregnancy. She feared, and her friends shared in her apprehension, that on that account, her martyrdom might be delayed. They prayed together, and her travail came on. In her agony at that most painful period of delivery, she gave way to her sufferings. How then,' said one of the servants of the prison, if you cannot endure these pains, will you endure exposure to the wild beasts?' She replied, I bear now my own sufferings; then, there will be one within me who will bear my sufferings for me, because I shall suffer for his sake.' She brought forth a girl, of whom a Christian sister took the charge.

Perpetua maintained her calmness to the end. While they were treated with severity by a tribune, who feared lest they should be delivered from the prison by enchantment, Perpetua remonstrated with a kind of mournful pleasantry, and said that, if ill-used, they would do no credit to the birth-day of Cæsar: the victims ought to be fattened for the sacrifice. But their language and demeanour was not always so calm and gentle; the words of some became those of defiance—almost of insult; and this is related with as much admiration as the more tranquil sublimity of the former incidents. To the people who gazed on them, in their importunate curiosity, at their agape, they said, 'Is not to-morrow's spectacle enough to satiate your hate? To-day you look on us with friendly faces, to-morrow you will be our deadly enemies. Mark well our countenances, that you may know them again on the day of judgment!' And to Hilarianus, on his tribunal, they said, 'Thou judgest us, but God will judge thee.' At this language the exasperated people demanded that they should be scourged. When taken out to execution, they declined, and were permitted to decline, the profane dress in which they were to be clad; the men, that of the priests of Saturn; the women, that of the priestesses of Ceres. They came for