REVIEWING AND CONCLUSORY.

BY THE REV. J. H. MILLARD, B.A. Before we close the Portfolio let us take another glance at the portraits we have been considering. They are the portraits of remarkable men; remarkable alike for their individual character, the singular station they filled, and for the influence they exerted on the destinies of Christianity and the world.

There is LEO THE GREAT, the right Royal pope, who would have been a great man whenever and wherever he might have lived; whose lot, however, was cast in an age of chaos and anarchy, and whose abode was that "Eternal city" to which even the eyes of the barbarians that sacked her were directed with reverence and awe. True bishop and true king was Leo the Great, well fitted by innate grandeur of mind to rule over men, and for whom, if circumstances can ever justify a deviation from the right path, the exigencies of his time may plead forgiveness for his debasing the pure spirituality of the christian ministry by mingling with it the alloy of temporal government and power. And here do we see with striking force the danger of departing from right principles on the plea of expediency. In Leo's hands the power he wielded was certainly a blessing to his country, and perhaps even to the church of Christ. To the latter it at least ensured liberty and peace. But how great the curse of that power when placed in the hands of Leo's unscrupulous and ungodly suc

cessors!

There is GREGORY THE GREAT, the last noteworthy pope, if, indeed, not the last of all, in whom the spirit of apostolical religion lingered amid the thick-growing weeds of pride, avarice, and worldliness. Let us gaze reverently on Gregory. He was pious, if his piety sometimes degenerated to superstition; he was zealous, if his zeal occasionally passed into bigotry. If we are at a loss whether to style him the theological or the superstitious pope, we cannot as Englishmen refuse him the tribute of our gratitude for his good intentions towards our native land.

There is ADRIAN THE FIRST, the dexterous or politic pope. Supple, intriguing, fawning on the great, "throwing dust" in

the eyes of the little, an admirable example of the priest turned courtier, and of the spiritual legerdemain-actor, who has "the interests of the church," forsooth, so near to his heart, that to advance them he "conscientiously" overleaps all the barriers of common morality.

The

And there is GREGORY THE SEVENTH, who, if daring courage, heroic fortitude, and soaring ambition, constitute greatness, was the very greatest of the popes. restorer of a decayed hierarchy, the bold assertor of universal supremacy in its widest sense, who wrestled with crowned princes and gave them "the fall," Gregory the Seventh is justly the idol of the priesthood, and the execration of mankind.

There is INNOCENT THE THIRD, in whom Gregory's spirit lived again, and who realized all Hildebrand's most ambitious dreams. In his presence monarchs became slaves; in his hands religion was a sort of hand-grenade to be thrown at random at "Turks, Infidels, and Heretics," not intended to save but to destroy. Here was the consummation of the spiritual tyranny contemplated and planned by Gregory. The pope was the "sole luminary" of the world, or, if there were others, they but reflected his light. Princes spoke in his lordly audience with "bated breath," and the vulgar herd, the peoples of Europe, were the beasts of burden, who were but too honoured to be allowed to carry their wealth to the treasury of "God's vicegerent."

And this is ALEXANDER THE SIXTH, in whom the awful but natural results of the papal system were fully disclosed. Hardly is another name to be found in all history entitled to the same "bad eminence" as Alexander's. The most licentious and abandoned, the most profane and inhuman, of all the human race, was destined to be of that band who claim to be "successors of the apostles," and "vicars of Christ" Why otherwise? With irresponsible power, with unlimited resources, with no guarantee for his piety, or even for morality, who shall say nay to a pope?

Here is JULIUS THE SECOND, whose passions took another direction, and who may fairly be called the warrior pope; and here LEO THE TENTH, the pope dilletante, lap

ping himself in pleasures, and soothing his ears with the dulcet harmonies of his pet minstrels, while the Goths were a second time thundering at the gates of Rome, under the leadership of Luther. Let them thunder on ! What cared Leo for either Church or State, so he might "enjoy himself"!

Here we have the pope of the boasted Reaction, PAUL THE FOURTH. The Reformation has come and gone. Our popes must now (for a while, at least) be men of a different stamp. They must be zealous men, and if a little given to persecution, all the better. Heresy must, at all hazards, be extinguished. So set the thumbscrew and rack, the Jesuit and the Inquisition, at work. And Paul the Fourth is the very man to direct operations. He delighteth not in mercy. The flames of the martyred heretic send a cheering warmth to his very soul.

And here we have, finally, a quite modern pope, although not one exactly of a class. CLEMENT THE FOURTEENTH seems to tell us, by the gentleness of his countenance, that "he was not born to be a pope." "Some men have greatness thrust upon them;" and this, assuredly, was the case with Clement. He was not the choice of the Roman church, but of the European sovereigns, who wanted a fit instrument to destroy the overbearing and intolerable Jesuits. And lest, from Clement's character, men should be led to suppose that the

papacy had become tolerant, and, under the influence of growing enlightenment, had modified her creed and her practice, the priesthood judiciously resolved to cut short his career. Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat; and so the priests poisoned the man who might have persuaded the world that the Romish church was not, after all, either Antichrist or a total Apostacy.

And, now, let no one think that we have. been unfair to Rome in the examples we have chosen of her chief rulers. These are her HEROES, for the most part, at all events; these are the men whom Rome yet delighteth to honour. They are, moreover, typical men,-types, that is, of the Roman church in their respective centuries. It would be an interesting, and, perhaps, a profitable study, to trace the identity of the papacy through all her Protean metamorphoses from age to age, and mark how well her different phases are symbolized and represented in these her elected chieftains. But for us, who belong to the free churches of Christ the churches happily delivered from all popish and prelatical bondage-a more grateful task remains: that, while anxiously guarding against the invasion of those new forms of error to which poor human nature is ever prone, we may give God thanks perpetually for our release from that spiritual tyranny which debases equally those who wield and those who submit to it.

THE SOFT ANSWER.

BY T. S. ARTHUR.

“I'll give him law to his heart's content, the scoundrel!" said Singleton, walking backward and forward, in an angry state of excitement.

"Don't call harsh names, Mr. Singleton," said lawyer Trueman, looking up from the mass of papers before him, and smiling in a quiet, benevolent way, that was peculiar to him.

"Every man should be known by his true name. Williams is a scoundrel, and so he ought to be called!" responded the client with increasing warmth.

"Did you ever do a reasonable thing in your life when you were angry ?" asked

Mr. Trueman, whose age and respectability gave him the license to speak thus freely to his young friend, for whom he was endeavouring to arrange some businessdifficulty with his former partner.

"I can't say that I ever did, Mr. Trueman; but now I have good reason for being angry, and the language I use, in reference to Williams, is but the expression of a sober and rational conviction," replied Singleton, a little more calmly.

"Did you pronounce him a scoundrel before you received this reply to your last letter?" asked Mr. Trueman.

"No, I did not; but that letter confirmed my previously formed impressions of his character."

"But I cannot find, in that letter, any evidence proving your late partner to be a dishonest man. He will not agree to your proposed mode of settlement, because he does not see it to be the most proper way."

"He won't agree to it, because it is an honest and equitable mode of settlement, that is all! He wants to overreach me, and is determined to do so, if he can!" responded Mr. Singleton, still excited.

"There you are decidedly wrong," said the lawyer. "You have both allowed yourselves to become angry, and are both unreasonable; and if I must speak plainly, I think you are the most unreasonable in the present case. Two angry men can never settle any business properly. You have unnecessarily increased the difficulties in the way of a speedy settlement, by writing Mr. Williams an angry letter, which he has responded to in the like unhappy temper. Now, if I am to settle this business for you, I must write all letters that pass to Mr. Williams in future."

"But how can you properly express my views and feelings ?"

"That I do not wish to do, if your views and feelings are to remain as they now are; for anything like an adjustment of the difficulties, under such circumstances, I should consider hopeless," replied Mr. Trueman.

"Well, let me answer this letter, and, after that, I promise that you shall have your own way."

"No, I shall consent to no such thing. It is the reply to that letter which is to modify the negotiation for a settlement, in such a way as to bring success or failure; and I have no idea of allowing you, in the present state of your mind, to write such an one as will most assuredly defeat an amicable adjustment."

Singleton paused some time before making a reply. He had been forming in his mind a most cutting and bitter rejoinder to the letter just alluded to, and he was very desirous that Mr. Williams should have the benefit of knowing that he thought him a tricky and deliberate scoundrel, with other opinions of a similar character. He found it, therefore, impossible to make up his mind to let the unimpassioned Mr. Trueman write this most important epistle,

"Indeed, I must write this letter, Mr. Trueman," he said. "There are some things that I want to say to him, which I know you won't write. You don't seem to consider the position in which he has placed

me by that letter, nor what is obligatory upon me as a man of honour. I never allow any man to reflect upon me, directly or indirectly, without a prompt response.'

"There is in the bible," said Mr. Trueman, "a passage that is peculiarly applicable in the present case. It is this 'A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.' I have found this precept, in a life that has numbered more than double your years, to be one that may be safely and honourably adopted in all cases. You blame Mr. Williams for writing you an angry-letter, and are indignant at therein. certain expressions contained Now, is it any more right for you to write an angry letter, with cutting epithets, than it is for him ?"

"I do assure you, my young friend," said the lawyer, interrupting him, "that I am acting in this case for your benefit, and not for my own; and, as your legal adviser, you must submit to my judgment, or I cannot consent to go on."

"If I will promise not to use any harsh language, will you not consent to let me write the letter ?" urged the client.

"You and I, in the present state of your mind, could not possibly come at the same conclusion, in reference to what is harsh and what is mild," said Mr. Trueman; "therefore, I cannot consent that you shall write one word of the proposed reply- I must write it."

"Well, I suppose, then, I shall have to submit. When will it be ready?" "Come this afternoon, and I will give you the draft, which you can copy and sign."

In the afternoon, Mr. Singleton came, and received the letter prepared by Mr. Trueman. It ran thus, after the date and formal address:

"I regret that my proposition did not meet your approbation. The mode of settlement which I suggested was the result of a careful consideration of our mutual interests. Be kind enough to suggest to Mr. Trueman, my lawyer, any plan which you think will lead to an early and amicable adjustment of our business. You may rely upon my consent to it, if it meets his ap probation."

"Is it possible, Mr. Trueman, that you expect me to sign such a cringing letter as that?" said Singleton, throwing it down, and walking backward and forward with great irritation of manner.

"Well, what is your objection to it ?" replied Mr. Trueman, mildly, for he was prepared for such an exhibition of feeling.

"Objection! How can you ask such a question? Am I to go on my knees to him, and beg him to do me justice? No! I'll sacrifice every penny I've got in the world first, the scoundrel!"

"You wish to have your business settled, do you not?" asked Mr. Trueman, looking him steadily in the face.

"Of course I do-honourably settled!" "Well, let me hear what you mean by an honourable settlement."

"Why, I mean "

The young man hesitated a moment, and Mr. Trueman said,

"You mean, a settlement in which your interest shall be equally considered with that of Mr. Williams."

"Yes, certainly, and that

"And that," continued Mr. Trueman, "Mr. Williams in the settlement shall consider and treat you as a gentleman."

"Certainly I do, but that is more than he has done."

"Well, never mind. Let what is past go for as much as it is worth.. The principal point of action is in the present." "But I'll never send that mean, cringing letter, though."

"You mistake its whole tenor, I do assure you, Mr. Singleton. You have allowed your angry feelings to blind you. You certainly carefully considered, before you adopted it, the proposed basis of settlement, did you not ?"

"Of course I did."

"So the letter which I have prepared for you states. Now, as an honest and honourable man, you are, I am sure, willing to grant to him the same privilege which you asked for yourself, viz., that of proposing a plan of settlement. Your proposition does not seem to please him; now it is but fair that he should be invited to state how he wishes the settlement to be made, and in giving such an invitation, a gentleman should use gentlemanly language."

"But he don't deserve to be treated like a gentleman. In fact, he has no claim to the title," said the young man.

"If he has none, as you say, you profess to be a gentleman, and all gentlemen should prove by their actions and words that they are gentle-men."

"I can't say that I am convinced by what you say; but, as you seem to be bent on

having your own way, why, here, let me copy the thing and sign it," said the young man, suddenly changing his manner.

"There, now," he added, passing across the table the brief letter he had copied. "I suppose he'll think me a low-spirited fellow, after he gets that; but he's mistaken. After it's all over, I'll take good care to tell him that it didn't contain my sentiments."

Mr. Trueman smiled, as he took the letter and went on to fold and direct it.

"Come to-morrow afternoon, and I think we'll have things in a pretty fair way," he said, looking up with his usual pleasant smile, as he finished the direction of the letter.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Singleton," he said, as that gentleman entered his office on the succeeding day.

"Good afternoon," responded the young man. "Well, have you had an answer to that milk-and-water letter of yours? I can't call it mine."

"Yes; here is the answer. Take a seat, and I will read it to you," said the old gentleman.

"Well, let's hear it."

"DEAR GEORGE,-I have your kind and gentlemanly note of yesterday, in reply to my harsh, unreasonable, and ungentlemanly one of the day before. We have both been playing the fool; but you are ahead of me in becoming sane. I have examined, since I got your note, more carefully the tenor of your proposition for a settlement, and it meets my views precisely. My foolish anger kept me from seeing it before. Let our mutual friend, Mr. Trueman, arrange the matter according to the plan mentioned, and I shall most heartily acquiesce. Yours, &c.,

THOMAS WILLIAMS." "He never wrote that letter in the world!" exclaimed Singleton, starting to his feet. "You know his writing, I presume," said Mr. Trueman, handing him the letter.

"It's Thomas Williams's own hand, as I live!" ejaculated Singleton, on glancing at the letter. "My old friend, Thomas Williams, the best-natured fellow in the world!" he continued, his feelings undergoing a sudden and entire revolution. "What a fool I have been !"

"And what a fool I have been !" said Thomas Williams, advancing from an adjoining room, at the same time extending his hand towards Singleton.

"God bless you, my dear friend!" exclaimed Singleton, grasping his hand. "Why, what has been the matter with us both ?"

"My young friends," said old Mr. Trueman, one of the kindest-hearted men in the world, rising and advancing towards them, "I have known you long, and have always esteemed you both. This pleasant meeting and reconciliation, you perceive, is of my arrangement. Now, let me give you a precept that will make friends and keep friends. It has been my motto through life, and I don't know that I have any enemy in the world. It is, 'A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.""

LITTLE FRANK.

AN ANECDOTE.

In one of our large towns, a minister of Jesus Christ was ore morning told by his wife that a little boy, the son of a near neighbour, was very sick, near to death, and asked if he would not go in and see and talk to him.

"I hardly know what to do," said the good man; "his parents, you know, do not belong to my congregation, and are, besides, greatly opposed to the doctrines which I preach. I fear my visit would not be well received."

"But," rejoined the wife, "when you were sick a short time since, the mother of the little boy sent in kindly every day to enquire how you were, and I think they will expect you to come and see their son."

This was a sufficient inducement, and he was soon on his way to the dwelling of sorrow. The mother was hanging in anguish over her precious and beautiful child, who was tossing from side to side in the delirium of a brain fever. The minister, after watching him a few moments, turned to the lady, and said,

"This poor little fellow should be kept perfectly quiet, madam; he should not be excited in any manner.'

"Sir," said she, "will you offer up a prayer ?"

At first he hesitated, fearing the effect upon the child, but on second thought knelt at the bedside, and uttered a few petitions in His name who said, "Suffer little children to come unto me." The moment he commenced speaking, the little

sufferer, who till now seemed unconscious of his presence, ceased his moans, lay still upon the bed, and fixing his large dark eyes upon him, listened intently to every word. The minister rose from his knees, said a few words to the mother, and went home, leaving the child in a perfectly tranquil state. The next morning the first intelligence which greeted him was, that little Frank had died during the night.

He had become extremely interested, and the apparent effect of the voice of prayer upon the dying boy had surprised him. He went again to visit the family, attended the funeral, and at length learned from the mother the following facts:

She had two children. Frank was the oldest, and the second was a daughter of five years. A few months before, little Alice had gone to spend the night with some companions in the neighbourhood, whose parents were christians, and were training their children to follow their steps. As they were about retiring to rest, these little ones said to their visiter, "Come, Alice, kneel down with us and say 'Our Father,' before we go to bed." The child, bewildered by their words and kneeling attitude, answered,

"But I do not know what Our Father'

is."

"Well, don't you want to learn it?" said one.

"Oh, yes," said Alice; and being a bright little girl, she soon committed to memory the precious form of prayer which has gone up from so many lips since the Saviour first uttered it. The next morning, full of animation, and delighted with her new acquisition, she turned home; and the moment her brother Frank appeared from school, she began to tell him all about her visit, and beg him to learn "Our Father," and say it with her. From that time, the mother said, kneeling together, they had daily repeated the Lord's Prayer, with great earnestness and delight, and had also learned other prayers, in which they seemed much interested. A few days before he was taken sick, Frank had come to her with a book in his hand, and said,"Oh, mother, here is a beautiful prayers will you let me read it to you ?"

It was the remembrance of this which induced her to make the request that the minister would pray by the bed of her suffering boy, and this was the secret of the calming influence which that prayer