for their transgressions, and desire for amendment. For instance, in the first circle, where Pride is purged, are portrayed examples of humility-the Virgin Mary receiving the message of the angel; the ark drawn by oxen, and preceded by the humble Psalmist, dancing with girded loins; the story of the Emperor Trajan and the poor widow. As Dante, still accompanied by Virgil, goes along his way, and meets with many an old friend and comrade, he is entreated to pray for them, or to obtain the prayers of their relations still on earth, for the shortening of their time of suffering. Nino di Visconti, in particular, whose wife has married again, is very pathetic in his request to Dante that he will tell his little daughter, Giovanna, When the poet has passed the seven ascents, he reaches the top of the Mount, and, falling asleep, has a vision of Beatrice, and Matilda (supposed to be the Countess of Tuscany), with Leah and Rachel-representations of the active and contemplative life, as are Martha and Mary in the Holy Scriptures. He wakes in the terrestrial Paradise, of which he gives, in his own exact way, a minute and beautiful description. Here Beatrice meets him and reproves him for his sins; and he is bathed by Matilda in the waters of Lethe, which signify penance and absolution, to bring him to the oblivion of evil, and the memory of good, and so prepare him for his journey through the Celestial Paradise. Through these realms Virgil, the unbaptised, may not accompany him, and he has the ineffable delight of the guidance of Beatrice. As has been said, the Paradiso is the most abstruse, and allegorical portion of the poem. The souls of the blessed are placed by Dante in different planets, and stars, according to the Ptolemaic system of astronomy. For instance, the Moon, the symbol of change, is assigned as the abode of those who have not entirely fulfilled their vows to Almighty God, and, though saved at last, have fallen away from their first love; and the Heaven of Mercury for those who, for love of fame, have achieved great deeds. In the Heaven of the Sun are seen the Fathers of the Church. Here Dante meets the two great theologians of medieval times, St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Bonaventura, the former as a Dominican delivering the panegyric of St. Francis, the latter, the Franciscan, that of St. Dominic-a practice kept up in their respective orders to this day. In Mars are the souls of the martyrs; in Jupiter, those of the confessors; in Saturn, the souls of the contemplative. Dante then ascends to the Heaven of the Fixed Stars; and there is a beautiful description of our Lord and His Mother, with attendant saints and angels, reminding the reader of a picture of Fra Angelice. So far the Paradiso may be said to symbolise the progress of the soul from a life of innocence, to the contemplation of the most perfect union with God possible on earth. From hence, to the end of the poem, the state of the soul, after death, in the enjoyment of the Beatific Vision, is described. The multitude of spirits redeemed by the blood of the Lamb seem to Dante to dwell within the form of a pure, white, rose, with innumerable petals. On the left side of this celestial blossom sit the believers in Christ before His coming; to the right, those who look back in faith to His life on earth. St. Bernard, to whose guidance Beatrice has now confided Dante, entreats the Virgin, in a beautiful prayer, that the poet may have a vision of the Almighty. This is granted. He beholds in a triple circle the ineffable Rainbow of the Trinity, and in the midst of it a human figure, to symbolise the union of the human with the Divine. A wonderful splendour overwhelms the poet, which terminates the vision, of which he saysO, now all speech is feeble, and falls short of my conceit. With a beautiful address to the Trinity, beginning, "O, Light eterne!" the poem closes, as Dante figures, on the morning of the Sunday after Easter, the whole time of his journey through the three realms having occupied ten days. No one can feel more than the writer of this sketch, the entire unworthiness of this effort to bring forward a bare outline of the "Divine Comedy," a work which repays the closest and most reverent study. It is the writing of a man who has suffered much, and has discovered that his only refuge is in the contemplation of higher things than the miseries of this life; and the restrained emotion which seems to vibrate in every line is a wholesome discipline to the reader, drawing him onward towards the contemplation of the highest Christian truths. "ROUND THE FIRESIDE" PRIZE. WE much regret that, owing to the very large number of Manuscripts sent in for competition, the Adjudicator has not been able to prepare his report in time for publication in this number of the Magazine. It will be given in the March number. "The Children's Hour" and other matter ïs also unavoidably held over. MR. STALKER'S "LIVES OF CHRIST AND THE success-the deserved success-of Mr. Stalker's "Lives of Christ and St. Paul," in the series of Handbooks for Bible Classes, has been such as to induce the author and publishers to issue the volumes in a separate and a "better form, without the marks of a handbook, which impede the general reader." These volumes are well got-up, and only cost 3s. 6d. We cannot imagine any better or more wholesome exercise in Biblical study than for a young man and young woman, and many more who are no longer young, to read through these books at a sitting, and, having done that, to read them over again. They are admirable in thought, in tone, in style, and, indeed, in every way. "SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS"— LECTURES by E. Lehmann, Director of the Union for the Inner Mission at Leipsic, translated by Sophia Taylor, and published by Messrs. T. & T. Clark, 38 George Street, Edinburgh-will also be found pleasant reading. "THE OLD AND NEW THEOLOGY.” THIS "constructive critique" (Clark, 6s.), by the Rev. J. B. Heard, M. A., will be welcomed by those who, like the author, think that every age may and should construct its own theology, and who hope that the twentieth century may outgrow the ruling ideas of the nineteenth as much as we do those of the eighteenth. The theology of the future, as Mr. Heard calls it, aims at absorbing all that was good in the old Rationalism and also in the old Mysticism, long and widely divided. The new theology is thus distinct from the old, and yet it is its legitimate descendant and heir-atlaw. Parent and child may misunderstand each other, as is often the case, but we need not be shaken in our faith in an ultimate reconcilement of old and new forms of truth by these alarms. This reconciliation is Mr. Heard's aim, and he soon hopes to see his views advanced to the third of the three stages through which every new science has to pass:-1. It was absurd; 2, it was contrary to the Bible; 3, we always thought so. "THE SUNDAY SERVICE BOOK." Or this admirable and most useful volume, "Crion" thus writes in "Tangled Talk" in the Glasgow Weekly Citizen: "Sunday Talk suggests Good Words, and Good Words suggests its Editor, who has just issued a volume which I commend most heartily to my readers. It is The Sunday Service Book' (London: William Isbister, Limited-I am sorry he is limited, for so good a publisher deserves to have infinite limit!-56 Ludgate Hill). Dr. Macleod's book comes most timeously-get it at once, my reader, and begin to read it in your family circle, 'Round the Fireside,' on the first Sunday of the year, and you will read it ever afterwards. It is marked by ability and taste. It meets a great want, for, as its author says, 'It is not always easy for the head of a household, who desires to conduct a short service with his family on Sunday evening, to arrange for himself such a service as may be found suitable. The selection of appropriate passages of Scripture; the choice of a discourss combining brevity with practical simplicity; and the finding of prayers in harmony with the subjects thus fixed upon is a task which many find to be full of difficulty.' The book is intended in a measure to supply these wants, and, I may add, does so most admirably. Each service consists of suggested readings from the Old and New Testaments, of a short discourse, and of a prayer followed by a Collect and the Lord's Prayer. I am quite sure that Dr. Macleod's book will be found useful to many families in this country who like to spend their Sunday evenings at home-where, I humbly think, notwithstanding all the Lectures for the Times and Sunday Lectures in vogue, the great majority of Sunday evenings ought to be spent-and to travellers abroad and to residents in India and the Colonies, who may be deprived of opportunities for public worship." "LETTERS FROM HELL.” A FEARFUL title, is it not? and, as George Macdonald in his preface says, the book is far more fearful than its title, which is not quite new. For just before the death of Oliver Cromwell a book was published, entitled "Messages from Hell, or Letters from a Lost Soul." The book, of which the volume before us is an English rendering, appeared in Denmark eighteen years ago, and was speedily followed by an English translation, now long out of print, issued by the publishers of the present version, Messrs. Richard Bentley & Son, New Burlington Street, London. In Germany it appeared not long ago in a somewhat modified form, and has, says Dr. Macdonald, "aroused almost unparalleled interest, running, I am told, through upwards of twelve editions in the course of a year. This present English edition is made from this German version. It contains "a healthy upstirring of the imagination and the conscience," which George Macdonald hopes "will be of great use in these days, when thousands of half-thinkers imagine that since it is declared with authority that hell is not everlasting, there is then no hell at all"- -a folly to which he has given no enticement or shelter. "NINE YEARS IN NIPON " Is the title of a most interesting and entertaining series of sketches of Japanese life and manners, by Henry Faulds, surgeon, of Tsukiji Hospital, Tokio (Alexander Gardner, 12 Paternoster Row, London, and Paisley). Dr. Faulds has had exceptional advantages for observing the conditions of life in Japan, and tells us just exactly what we want to know about a wonderful country and people. His eye is very different from the ever unwinking one, which, he tells us, a Chinaman loves to paint on the prow of his sampan, and whose standard joke is to explain to the inquiring stranger with combined simplicity and terseness, "No got eye, no can see." see, but can describe 66 Dr. Faulds not only can in graphic and pleasant language what has interested him, and what consequently interests us. There are two very interesting chapters on "Schools" and "A Glimpse of the Land of Neglected Education," and we trust that the present volume will have the success its author desires, to encourage him to give us another volume, in which he will deal with the religious and moral systems of the country. The present book contains some curious specimens of Japanese art, which enliven its pages and are full of interest. The first which we have the "THE PERFECT HOME" Is a series of admirable little booklets, published by Messrs. W. Swan, Sonnenschein & Co., treating of "The Wedded Life," "The Husband's Part," "The Wife's Part," "The Parents' Part," "The Children's Part." They are full of good advice for the perfect home, for every member of which the prayer of the Breton mariner, as he puts out on the waves, is suitable: "Keep me, O God, for my boat is so small and the ocean is so wide." GONE TO SCHOOL. THERE is a shadow over "The Rookery;" thank God, not the Terrible Shadow, save the one that is always there to my eyes, but a real shadow all the same. One of the little fellows has gone to school, and there is a bright face and a merry voice the less to-day, and one little sleeper the less to be kissed and "tucked in" the last thing before one's own weary eyes are closed to-night. He has "gone," (and if you want to know all the pathos contained in that little word, read “A.K.H.B.'s” essay that has it for its title). Poor IS BET SA little laddie, he has "gone" to begin his first battle with the world. Ah, who knows-who would know if he could-how it will end? Gone "With the dew of youth on his locks, and the light of God on his face." Not quite amongst strangers, I am thankful to say, to dwell in a city by the sea, where his mother's ancestors have lived for more generations than the number of his years-and where there are many who will be kind to him, because in his beautiful face they are able to see traces of a still more beautiful one, and who will not often see him without thinking that he is "Her" boy, and feeling their hearts warm to him. And you, my reader, perhaps some of your little fellows have gone to school for the first time, and are to-day away from you. Do not forget them in your prayers to the great Teacher, He who spake as never man spake, and to whom every child is dear, because He Himself was once a child. "And oh! it is such a joy To know that the heart of Christ once beat as the heart of a boy." There is a beautiful prayer of the late Dean Alford's for such, of which I shall give you the first and last sentences. They may be helpful to you:-"O God, our heavenly Guardian and Guide, who never failest them that seek Thee, look in mercy on our dear child now gone forth from home, into the temptations and perils of the world. We know, and may he know, that Thou art not the God of home alone, but also of every place where Thy people seek Thee, and remember Thy covenant. Heavenly Father, protect and aid him with Thy good Providence. Blessed Redeemer, Thou Good Shepherd, feed him among Thy lambs and keep him in Thy fold. Holy Spirit, be Thou the Guide of his youth, the Teacher and Comforter of his soul. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, our God, and the God of our fathers, bless his going out and his coming in henceforth and for evermore. Amen." And if the lad be motherless, surely one cannot help also praying-though we may be sure there is no need to do so that the spirit of his mother in Heaven may be his guide all the days of his life, and help to bring him at last to where she herself is.-From ORION'S Note-book. A DUTCH KIRK IN SERVICE TIME. THE service in a Dutch church is similar to that of the Presbyterian churches in Scotland. The Dutch, however, observe the festivals of the Christian year; hence it was not on a Sunday, but on Ascension Day, that our first opportunity of seeing what a Dutch church service is like occurred, and it happened to be in Leyden. The good people of Leyden are fond of saying that their town is like Oxford, but Oxonians would hardly think the comparison flattering, for the great University town of Holland is thoroughly uninteresting except as a seat of learning and on account of its past history. With few exceptions the streets are featureless, and even the canals are not picturesque; yet in the May sunshine, when the bells were ringing and people on their way to church, the town looked pleasant enough, and the tender green of trees just bursting into leaf, and reflected here and there in water, gave freshness to the scene. Bending our steps towards the great St. Pieterskerk, we presently found ourselves in a narrow lane filled with tidy, simply dressed people, all going in the same direction as ourselves, and soon we gained a sort of square, in the middle of which stood the church, one of immense size, and dating from the beginning of the fourteenth century. The worn, reddish-grey brickwork of buttress and pinnacle, the lofty windows and high roof, would have promised a rich interior had we not remembered that in Holland, as in Scotland, the Reformation was achieved only after violent struggles, during which the claims of religious art were inevitably ignored, and many beautiful and priceless works lost or destroyed. We knew, besides, that modern Holland, rich as it is in art treasures, still allows whitewash to reign supreme in the decoration of its churches. Entering the church by a door in the north transept, we were immediately conscious of an atmosphere of deathly chilliness. The sunlight was indeed pouring in through the windows on the whitewashed walls and pillars, and on the dull, grey pavement, but it seemed only to intensify the general bareness and want of colour, for there was no stained glass. We were much struck by the vastness of the interior and by the lofty pillars forming the double aisles. The choir on our left was closed in by one of those metal screens so common in the Netherlands, and which are so frequently, though not in this case, marvellous works of art. The people were, we saw, all passing on to the west end of the church, and it was noticeable they did not show the slightest mark of reverence for the place they had just entered. They kept their hats on, stopped to shake hands and talk with acquaintances exactly as they might have done in the square outside. This did not surprise us after we had read a placard, one of several, hung round the walls, and their sole ornament. It warned people that they were expected to behave decently and properly in the church, and not destroy anything. Could there be, we thought, any more striking commentary on the Dutchman's Sunday manners than the necessity for such a warning. We afterwards heard that smoking in church used to be common, but is now unknown except in some remote districts of Friesland. The fact is, the real place of worship in the Dutch churches is not the church in general, but a large wooden amphitheatre usually erected, like the one we now saw before us, in the nave beside the organ loft. The whole is evidently arranged with a view to the sermon, as the pulpit is in the centre and the pews are built looking towards it. In this case the pews rose tier above tier, and were approached either by sloping passages from below, or by steep back stairs that might be almost described as ladders. We approached this formidable woodyard modestly, but our progress was arrested by a beadle, who conducted us back to a recess in one of the aisles, where we found three deacons solemnly sitting at a table with piles of tickets and pence before them, and looking like the money changers in the Temple as one sees them in Dutch pictures. Duly provided with tickets, we were re-conducted by the friendly beadle. A brother official, by the way, in another church, begged us, in similar circumstances, to put on our hats. "Tis so bad for the health to go bareheaded about the church," and I daresay, also, he considered our behaviour too singular. The pew we were left in was one of several labelled "Professors," and by and by one or two appeared, but the pew accommodation provided for them seemed much in excess of the demand. From our dignified position we had a good view of the congregation as they came in, not very numerously, for naturally many preferred to spend the holiday in other ways. There poured in, for instance, a long stream of quaintly-dressed charity children, then a maidservant or two with blue cotton gowns and clean muslin caps, under which glowed blooming red cheeks, framed in by severely-braided flaxen hair. White stockings and black shoes, exchanged for the every-day sabots, completed their costume. Then came some peasant women with hard, expressionless faces, looking none the better for gaudy modern bonnets stuck on the top of their national head-dress of white lace and heavy gold ornaments. In the women's quarter-for they sat apart from the men, who were placed higher up-we observed the pew openers continually running to and fro with what appeared to be foot-stools, but were really little foot-stoves. The stoofje, as it is called, is a small wood box with a perforated top, under which is set an earthenware saucer containing a bit of glowing turf. In Dutch churches, and indeed everywhere else during cold weather, the stoofje is the Dutchwoman's inseparable and much-loved companion. The truth of this was amusingly illustrated by a lady who, when we acknowledged that we had nothing of the kind in Scotland, exclaimed-"Oh, unhappy country that has no stoofjes!" The service now began with the entrance of the clerk, whose desk is immediately below the pulpit. He is usually a schoolmaster, and this one it was evident had no small opinion of himself and his office. The behaviour of the congregation, however, while he read the Scripture lessons, clearly showed that they looked upon this part of the service as mere liminaries." pre A Psalm was next sung, and the singing is certainly the most astonishing thing in the Dutch service. Each person sings very loud and very slow with a nasal intonation. Those who have the stoutest lungs naturally hold out best at these prolonged notes, and so fall behind the rest, but this gives them no uneasiness. Each goes on conscientiously keeping his own time, and the organ lingers sympathetically to accompany the very last wail. How can people endure such singing, we thought, in a town where the night before at a private concert we had heard a large choir of men sing in superlatively excellent style. The explanation we found to be this. The hideous singing is connected in the minds of the people with orthodox doctrine, and good old-fashioned ways in general. To improve upon it would be an innovation; and, in particular, the St. Pieterskerk congregation, we were told, is a pure well of orthodoxy undefiled. We did not doubt it. Those who sympathise with the modern school of theology would willingly see something better, and frankly confess that such singing as we chanced to hear is like the howling of a pack of wolves. During the Psalm, deacons went round carrying black velvet collecting bags at the end of extremely long, slender rods. All this time the huge pulpit, with its heavy carved canopy, had remained empty, but now a dominie, as the pastor is called in Holland, came in and ascended the pulpit. He was dressed in black gown and bands, lawn wristbands, and black gloves. After a short extempore prayer he began his sermon, taking a text suitable to the festival of the day. The text was also printed in large letters on a board hung by the side of the pulpit. The men now put on their hats, which they had taken off while the prayer was going on, and during sermon they sat, stood, or leaned across the pews, changing their position as often as they felt inclined. The preacher used no paper, and after he had gone on for half-an-hour it was easy to see that his matter was exhausted, for he began to repeat himself. We fondly hoped he must stop soon, and in truth he did so quite suddenly, and when we least expected it. Another Psalm was given out, and once again to our surprise the deacons were busy with their waggling rods making a second collection for another charity. The Psalm ended, and we were dismayed to find that this had been, after all, only a pause in the middle of the sermon, which for thirty-five minutes more went on, a weary surge of rising and falling oratory. At last came the peroration unmistakeably, and we could not help envying the dominie, who was evidently the only warm individual in church. Another hymn followed and a third collection for yet another purpose; but these repeated collections at one service are not such a tax as might be imagined, for the coins used in Holland would enable one to satisfy far more frequent demands without any strain on one's purse. We Our cramped limbs were thus at length released after a two hours' captivity in a narrow pew. wandered round the church looking at some insignificant monuments erected to the memory of great scholars such as Leyden has so often produced Boerhave, the great physician; Spanheim, Scaliger, and others; but it was with a decided feeling of relief that we regained the warm sunshine of the outer air. As Scotchmen, we could not resist taking a little comfort from the reflection that if Scotch churches and Scotch services are sometimes tasteless, bald, and cold, there exists a lower deep which might have been our fate, but which has been happily escaped, or at least left behind in the past. DOUBTING. A RUSH of hopes, of fears, of dreads, To nearly every thinking mind There comes a strife like this, Yet patience, heart! for God is not And oh that creed is false indeed That holds Him to be so; Which follow these same laws, OXFORD AND ETON. FAUVETTE. |