is the right to power," though he was a He was executed on December 7, 1683. since the dead, if their spirits are what they were at all, cannot be unchangeable, cannot be beyond the power of God, cannot be beyond the reach of prayer. Of course we know the sort of ground on which prayers for the dead have been held to be superstitious and heretical. This is held by those who think that "probation" is strictly limited to this life, and that an alternative of absolute blessedness or absolute misery is hereafter certain. Such persons hold that the habit of praying for the dead cannot even be innocent, since it must take the form either of a prayer for what is already granted, which implies distrust of God, or else a prayer for what is already refused, which implies rebellion of heart against him. The answer, of course, is that we have no assurance in revelation that probation is absolutely limited by this life for all alike; the subject is not even explicitly dealt with in the New Testament. And even if that were so, and nothing seems more unlikely, none the less we could not be in any way assured that the state of those who are beyound the veil is unchangeable, that the blessedness of those who are blessed admits of no increase, and the misery of those who are miserable of no decrease. Except in the presence of a positive di vine revelation to the contrary — of which no one even pretends to produce evidence -the natural assumption is, that whatever prayer tends to do for one who is living on earth, it equally tends to do for one who is living in the stage beyond. IN Mr. MacColl's paper, published in As Mr. MacColl says, those who make the Fortnightly for July, on the princess light of the efficacy of prayers for the Alice, the depth of pathos in whose dead are in a fair way to make light of letters, by the way, he brings out with the efficacy of prayers for the living. If singular success, - he touches a weak it is argued that they are useless because article in the theology of some of the Re- God may be absolutely trusted to do the formed Churches, namely, the condem- best for the dead without our prayers, nation of prayers for the dead. This has why, that applies just as much to the liv always seemed to us to admit of only one ing as to the dead. And if it is argued kind of justification, and that a justifica that after death their state is so absolutely tion which it cannot plead, - we mean unalterable that no prayers can avail them the plea that the condition of the dead is anything, the natural inference is that unchangeable, that by death they are long before death that crystallization of turned, as it were, to stone. The princess their destiny must have set in which records in one of her letters, after the turned to petrifaction afterwards. If the loss of her youngest boy, that the eldest positive instruction to pray for each other "always prays for Frittie;" and as Mr. is to apply to this life only, why was it MacColl justly remarks, this is simply not carefully limited to the domain of this natural, and is even shown to be so by life by those who taught us to pray? Is the practice of the unsophisticated child. it not obvious that what was intended was Mr. MacColl declares that "to forbid to foster in man's heart the habit of pourprayers for the dead is to undermine the ing forth all his desires and wants freely doctrine of prayers for the living." And to God? And if those desires and wants there we agree with him most completely, do not stop short at the grave, if they From The Spectator. PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD. affect as much those who have passed beyond it, as those who are on this side of it, it can be nothing but the most artificial and unnatural of arrangements to teach us to divide our desires into two strictly separated classes, of which those belonging to one are never again to be breathed to God, while those belonging to the other are to be poured forth with all the old fervor. What teaching could be better adapted to make the invisible world unreal to us than this complete ignoring, in our intercourse with God, of all the affections which connect us with the world beyond, this sedulous restraining of our thoughts to those who are still with us in the visible frame of things? If men once ignore the dead in their prayers, those who are gone will become dead to them in a quite new sense, nay, the world of the highest life will become dead to them also. As it is the very highest effect of prayer to connect the unseen with the seen world, and to convince men that God has regard to the cry of man, when it is in accordance with his spirit, nothing seems to us more fatal to that highest use of prayer than to represent it as strictly limited in its scope to those who are still with us, and entirely without possible result on those who are gone from us. How could the conception of "the whole family in heaven and earth" be a true one, if the members of it who are on one side of the grave may properly pray only for those who are on the same side as themselves, but should treat those who are on the other side of it as beyond the range even of their intercessions? That is not one family, half of which may not even pray to God for blessings on the other half. The horror felt of prayers for the dead in some theological circles is justified, we believe, by the argument that, if once we begin to think of the condition of any one who is beyond the grave as changeable at all, we shall get into the habit of thinking that even if we are as evil and selfish as we please in this life, even if we delay repentance till after all the evil enjoyments of life have been exhausted, we may yet rescue ourselves, or be rescued by others, from that misery we deserve, by change of heart in the world beyond. But the true answer to this is, not to as sume a single arbitrary point like the moment of death, as the point when change for all alike becomes hopeless, -a doc trine which seems to us as little founded in Scripture as it is in the evidence of human nature, — but to show that whether on this side of the grave or on the other, a character once matured is so obstinate in its habits, so difficult to change, so moulded by its own former acts of choice, that the hope of any sudden revolution in its tastes and preferences is far more of a dream than of a reasonable expectation. It simply cannot be that a child who dies at ten or twelve has a character as formed as a man who lives to fifty or sixty; and if so, even the selfish child who dies at ten or twelve must be much more open to the higher spiritual influences which affect the next life than the man who lives to fifty or sixty, after a long career of steady resistance to those spiritual influences, can be conceived to be. The true teaching surely is, that prayer for others can never hurt, and may often help them; but that it can never help as much those who have set the grain of their own characters steadfastly against doing that for which we pray on their behalf, as it can those who are yet in the stage of growth in which every influence tells. Prayer for those who, with numberless faults, have died young, must, we should think, always be far more hopeful than prayer for those who, though they are still living, are liv ing with all their faults hardened into the rigidity of habitual sins. Neither prayer may be wasted; both may do good; but the reasonable thing certainly is to hope more from the prayer for those, - whether living or dead, who are not yet confirmed in evil, than for those, whether living or dead, who are so confirmed. It is not death that makes the difference. If the earnest prayer of a good man avails much, it yet avails more for those who have not hardened their hearts against the drift of such a prayer, than for those who have; and this even though he who is so hardening his heart to the influence of such prayers be still in the body, while he who is opening his heart to the influence of such prayers has been delivered from the burden of the flesh. It is not death which makes the difference, it is the life of him for whom the prayer is breathed. On the life which is growing more and more intractable to such prayers, whether it be embodied or disembodied, the prayer can have little effect, just as a touch will have but little effect on the course of a landslip. On the life which is growing more and more sensitive to the influence of such prayers, whether it be embodied or disembodied, a prayer may have, under the providence of God, great effect, and may even form the turning-point of a career. But that and he might have produced beneficial results which would have rendered his reputation clear and far-shining, resplendent in glory, and duly honored by his tory. is a doctrine which does not open any very sanguine hope of the effect of intercessory prayer on the future of those who have used ill a long probation here, though it may open much hope of the effect of prayer on those who have had here the In any attempt to portray and analyze mere shadow of a probation, with hardly that dark, picturesque, complex Wallenany experience of the fascination of good, stein, who certainly remains always maand with the fullest experience of the at-jestic, if not always certainly great, it is tractions of evil. natural to begin by regarding him under But the great danger of forbidding the dim, mystic starlight of astrology. prayers for the dead is, as Mr. MacColl says, that it must tend to discourage prayer altogether. If the heart may not pour itself out to God freely, it will soon cease to pour itself out at all. And clearly it cannot pour itself out freely unless it can say its say about both worlds, about those who are wholly in the one world, as well as about those whose life is partly in the one and partly in the other. "Where the treasure is, there will the heart be also;" and if the treasure is in the other world, to forbid the heart to be there too is fatal. And how can any one pray to God except for that for which his whole beart craves? From The Gentleman's Magazine. THERE are many aspects under which it is interesting to contemplate the complex, grandiose soldier-politician who is one of the strangest and most mysterious figures of the picturesque seventeenth century; and there are ample materials for many thoughts about Wallenstein. The great problem for the student is, how far Wallenstein was only selfishly ambitious; or how far he was truly great, actuated by motives which transcended personal aims, and which had for object the good of his country and the service of humanity. We want to understand the true value of this dark, perplexing, colossal figure, which towers so loftily, in gloomy grandeur and in mysterious meaning, above the wars, the politics, the intrigues, of his distracted land and turbulent time. Of his capacity as politician, or as warrior, there can be but little question. What, then, were the motives which impelled this born leader of men to act as he did act? His failure in ultimate success is, it must be recollected, to be attributed to the murder which cut short his action. Had he lived he would, probably, have changed the current of European events; Johann Kepler worked out the horoscope of the remarkable infant born at 4 P.M. on September 14, 1583. The great astronomer, who, like most of the men of science of his time, was also partly an astrologer, points out that Wallenstein was born under a combination of Saturn and Jupiter, both in the "first house," or astrological house of life. Saturn, the "swart star," inspires melancholy, wild thought, dark ambition, contempt of human authority, disregard of religion; and induces an absence of human tenderness and softness. Men born under Saturn are quarrelsome, impatient, haughty; but when they are also under the counter-influence of brilliant Jupiter, there is ground for hope that such dark and dangerous characteristics will soften and brighten with the progress of the years; while the regal planet develops a thirst for glory and for power, lends defiant daring, and inspires reckless courage. The combination of saturnine and jovialistic influences promises greatness, but predicts danger. A man born under this joint aspect will play a lofty part, will do great deeds, will provoke mighty enemies; but will, in the main, prevail and rule. It is a combination which points to a great career and fortune. Elizabeth of England was born under the same astral aspect. Wallenstein's high path of life seems lighted always by the stars; and behind his majestic figure we fancy always great planets gleaming out of skyey darkness. When first the young hero awoke to ambition, he could hardly do other than seek to serve the emperor. The Empire was splendid and supreme. It was the overwhelming force in disunited Germany. It possessed tradition, wealth, and the support of the Church. It was, indeed, like an iceberg in spring, undermined beneath the water-line, but towering in terrible majesty above the warring waves. Wallenstein was, in the opening of his career, impelled chiefly, if not solely, by ambition. His nobler aims were to grow out of his experience of life, war, and politics. It needed time to develop his higher individualism out of his lower self. Suc-| been concluded in 1634, neither Sweden cess cleared his mind of self-seeking. It nor France would have made such conwas most natural that the poor young quests of German territory. Bohemian noble, aspiring as adventurous, The emperor could well afford to be should devote his sword to the service of liberal in paying the price of blood to the the magnificent and munificent house of conspirators who assassinated Friedland; Austria. The eager young soldier could for the extent of the duke's confiscated see only the surface, and could not read property was enormous. His widow the hidden signs of the troublous times. received only the small estate of NeuHe wanted to succeed by joining himself schoss; his only child, Maria Elizabeth, to success. He wished for reward from | married, after the murder of her father, a the power most capable of royally recom- Count Kaunitz; Wallenstein's heir sank pensing ability. Conscious of his own into obscurity. supreme power, he judged and from his then point of view judged rightly that Ferdinand would recognize his valor and his talents by honors, titles, ample pay. Nominally a Catholic, his nature was not religious. He had no clear convictions, and was politician rather than theologian. He turned deaf ears towards the music of the spheres, though he bent credulous eyes upon the fate-ruling stars. If his soul had a Heaven, he pierced into that Heaven no deeper than to its stars. Many a one But the man was magnanimous and was no bigot. He had insight into the truth of things, and he saw that Vienna could never succeed in extirpating irrepressible Protestantism in Germany. The Thirty Years' War was concluded upon the basis upon which Wallenstein worked. Peace was produced by adopting the principles for which he bled. He learned to distrust the emperor, to detest the prejudices and superstitions of priest-led Vienna. The influence of priestly intrigue and of court cabal grew hateful to him. He was weary of ambition; for himself he had nothing more to desire; and he strove for a peace which should accord equal rights to Protestant and to Catholic. The Peace of Westphalia enacted all that Wallenstein had striven for; but that peace was concluded in 1648, and Wallenstein was murdered in 1634. Exhausted Vienna was compelled to make a peace which granted the great thing which Germany needed; but the years between 1634 and 1648 were a time of waste and wanton bloodshed, of devastating wars, and of uncounted human misery and loss. Another proof of Wallenstein's sagacity is that in 1648 the Swedes had acquired a strong hold in Germany; while French conquests included Austrian Alsatia, Strasburg, Philipsburg, Metz, Toul, Verdun. Had peace The death of Wallenstein aroused great controversy in Italy. Von Ranke found in the Corsini library, "Difesa sopra la morte di Waldstain;" "Il lamento di Alberto Waldstain con S. Mà. Cesarea; "Causa e morte di Walstain." The Italian tendency is to exculpate him, an old man, without heirs male, from any conspiracy to attain the Imperial throne for himself. They thought in Italy that, had Wallenstein entertained the ideas and projects attributed to him, he would have proceeded more in the manner of Cæsar Borgia. Speech in Italy was then comparatively free; but in the Imperial domains it was strictly restrained. The court published, in October, 1634, a "Report," in which Wallenstein is accused of a conspiracy of a worse character than that of Catiline. The more than doubtful evidence of Khevenhiller and of Sesyma Raschin was freely used to criminate the dead general. Nothing was allowed to be published except by authority; and authority exerted itself to the utmost to blacken the character, and to distort the motives, of the great man that it had executed without trial by means of murder. Living in a time of dissimulation and intrigue, the mind of Wallenstein had acquired a tortuous bent; and his sinuous negotiations have done much to throw doubt upon the singleness of his aim or the purity of his purpose. He had not the "single eye; nor was he too great for complicated policy. His trail is often difficult to follow; but it seems clear that, with time, and great responsibility, his vision became clearer and his objects be came national. He rose on stepping. stones of his dead self to higher things. His late devotion to the right cause was punished by murder; and the efforts of his enemies to confuse evidence have tended to leave his name and fame as problems in history; and yet it seems to me that his motives may be traced, and that he rose — towards the end of his ca reer- to be a called great. H. SCHUTZ WILSON. man who may fairly be less the Dutch branch of the Nassaus were in a general way the representatives of William the Silent, if not by strict descent, at least in public opinion, and no other branch of the family will ever again be able to call itself by the famous name of Orange Nassau. From The Saturday Review. Although, however, there is a very re spectable kind of regret felt among people of any knowledge and intelligence when a great family comes to an end, it was not only because he was the last of his house that the death of the Prince of Orange. was a political event. There was a general feeling that the want of a male heir to the king of the Netherlands might pos sibly cause a dispute over the succession. The kingdom of the Netherlands was THE death of the Prince of Orange has served to remind the world of the complicated nature of the relations between the different States of Europe. Little seems to have been known of the prince himself, even in his own country. He was a man of a retiring disposition, and supposed to have scientific tastes. It is so much the rule that a prince who lives a quiet life should be credited with the most remark-created by an arrangement among the able scientific, artistic, or literary genius, that the stories told about the heir to the crown of the Netherlands may possibly have been nothing but gossip. We have, however, M. Renan's word for it that the scientific curiosity of the late Prince of Orange was something more than what is commonly called by that name, -a kindly taste for animal pets, and a certain readiness to pick up such kinds of useful information as can be learned at second hand without trouble, and with occasional help from the milder forms of magic in the shape of experiments. Beyond this vague reputation for intelligence and love of knowledge, the prince has been made the subject of a good deal of personal and scandalous tittle-tattle with which healthyminded people will have as little as possi-ified without common consent. In the ble to do. This gossip has, however, never contained anything which reflected either upon his honor or his kindliness. If there was no reason to suppose that the prince would have become a ruler of any vigor, neither was there anything to show that he would have failed in the discharge of the duties of a constitutional sovereign. great powers of Europe after the abdication of the emperor Napoleon at Fontainebleau, with the intention that it should be a barrier against any future attempt of the French to resume his policy, if an insane love of war and personal aggrandize. ment can be called by that name. With this object the powers made an artificial kingdom of the Netherlands, including Belgium, which fell to pieces within twenty years. But although the powers were compelled to see their handiwork de. stroyed, they were far from consenting to give up their right of control over the fragments of the barrier raised against France. The position both of Belgium and the Netherlands has consequently been settled by treaty, and cannot be mod case of the latter the question is compli cated by the fact that the different States now ruled by the same king descend by a different rule of inheritance. In the grand duchy of Luxembourg the Salic law prevails, and it must be separated from the crown of Holland on the death of the present king, whose only surviving The death of the Prince of Orange has child is a daughter. There will then be attracted particular attention because he considerable difficulty in deciding as to was the last male of the Orange line of who is really entitled to the duchy, and the house of Nassau. It will become ex- with the help of a little good will a very tinct with his father, the present king of pretty quarrel on the subject may be got the Netherlands. The present royal fam-up between France and Germany. Neither ily of Holland are not indeed the direct is the way very clear as regards Holland representatives of the great Princes of itself. It is true that, as the Salic law Orange of the family of Nassau who did does not exist there, the throne will desuch wonderful things in war and politics scend quietly enough to the present king's for more than a century and a half. It is daughter. But if she should die young, a even only by a family custom that they very considerable difficulty will present continued to use the name of Orange at itself for settlement. Failing a direct rep all. The principality was resumed by resentative of the king, his heir must Louis XIV., and the title passed legally either be the Count of Nassau, the repreto the first king of Prussia. Neverthe-sentative of the elder and German line of E |