been some extraordinary conversions from drunkenness to sobriety, and from sobriety to vital religion, among a few of those who are enrolled among its ranks. On last Sabbath day, my eyes were filled with tears, on meeting at the Lord's table two men whom I had seen pursuing a profligate's career about eighteen months previous. They were two of the greatest drunkards in the village; and though they were capable of earning good wages, being excellent workmen, they squandered all away on delusive and debasing drink. Having subscribed the pledge, they shortly after, by sobriety, industry, and frugality, obtained attire suited to the Sabbath, in which they made their appearance in the house of God. They became converted, and are now consistent members of a Christian church." In Cornwall and in Wales the cases of religious conversion commencing in total abstinence are most abundant and encouraging. Still, it is objected we have no direct authority from Scripture in favour of total abstinence, or of societies founded upon its principle.

If we have no command to abstain, we have no command to partake of intoxicating drinks. So that the argument so far is not against total abstinence. In order to ascertain the bearing of Scripture on this question, we must ascertain and apply the general principles of Scripture in the same way as we apply them in other great questions of morality. These general principles will shew us, that a practice may be wrong, although we may not find it expressly condemned, and that a practice or society may be good, though, for its observance or establishment we may not be able to quote any direct command. Christianity inculcates the great principle of love to God, to Christ, and to mankind, and leaves us to apply the principle to existing circumstances. For instance, we can find no express condemnation of war in the Christian Scriptures, but war is utterly denounced, and will eventually be abolished by its principles of brotherly love and peace; so there is no express prohibition of slavery, but there is the golden rule, that we " do unto all men as we would that they should do unto us," which is destructive of every vestige of slavery. There is no express com

mand for the formation of Bible Societies or Sunday schools, but we are bound to spread the word of the kingdom, and to train the young in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. There is no express injunction that we abstain from all intoxicating liquors; but we are exhorted, if we would be the disciples of Christ, to love one another, to do good to all men according as we have opportunity; to watch and pray that we fall not into temptation; to avoid the appearance of evil; to let our light shine, so that others seeing our good works may glorify our Father who is in heaven; and to deny ourselves even in lawful things, rather than cause injury to any, in the spirit of the apostle's determination to partake neither of flesh, nor wine, nor any thing whereby our brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak. Apply these Christian principles to the existing circumstances of our times. Drunkenness is spreading crime and wretchedness on every hand. We have amongst us 600,000 of its victims; 60,000 die annually, and their places are supplied from the ranks of moderate drinkers. It is in our power to prevent all this guilt and misery; the self-denial required is not worthy to be named in comparison with the good to be secured. Do we need an express command for the performance of a duty urged upon us by the whole tenor of Christian morality, and by the appalling crimes and sufferings of thousands of our fellow-creatures? Need we say there is any sin in the abstract in partaking of alcoholic drinks, when, by carrying out the principle of abstinence, hundreds of thousands are saved from crimes and woes indescribable, from present and everlasting ruin? The controversy about particular scriptural texts is comparatively of little moment, while it is acknowledged there is no command to drink intoxicating liquors, and while every consideration of humanity, patriotism, and Christian love, appeals to us, from the almost universal degradation and misery caused by them in society, to abstain, and especially when we call to mind the declaration of the apostle, that to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.

F. H.

INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF THE REVOLT OF THE UNITED NETHERLANDS FROM THE SPANISH YOKE.

BY FREDERICK SCHILLER.

Translated from the German.

ONE of the most remarkable of those great political events which have made the sixteenth century the most brilliant period in the world's history, is, I think, the establishment of freedom in the Netherlands. If the glittering deeds of ambition, and of a depraved lust of rule, claim our wonder, how much more an event in which oppressed humanity struggled for its noblest rights, where the good cause was coupled with unwonted powers, and where the expedients of resolute despair triumphed in the unequal contest with the fearful arts of tyranny. Great and tranquillising is the thought that there is still a refuge from the insolent aggressions of kingly power; that its best laid schemes may be put to shame by human freedom; that a courageous resistance can humble the outstretched hand of the despot, and heroic constancy at length exhaust his terrible resources. Nowhere have I been more forcibly struck with this truth, than in the history of that memorable revolt, which separated for ever the United Netherlands from the Spanish crown; and, therefore, I have thought it no unprofitable task to attempt to exhibit before the world this noble picture of citizen power, to awaken a joyous consciousness of his own strength in the breast of my reader, and to give a new and incontestable example of what men can dare in a good cause, and accomplish by united effort.

It is not the extraordinary or heroic character of this event which induces me to describe it. The annals of the world record similar enterprizes still bolder in their plan, still more brilliant in their execution. Many states have fallen with a more magnificent convulsion, and others have arisen with a more lofty flight. Neither must we expect to meet here with the prominent

colossal men, the wonderful deeds, which the history of past times displays in such rich profusion. Those times are gone,-those men are no more. In the soft lap of refinement we have suffered the energies to sleep, which those times exercised and called forth. With downcast admiration we gaze at these gigantic pictures, like nerveless age at the manly games of youth. Not so with the present history. The people who are here brought before our view were the most peaceful in this quarter of the globe, and even less capable than their neighbours of that heroic spirit which gives a higher character to the meanest occupation. The pressure of circumstances surprised them with their own strength, and forced upon them a transitory greatness, which otherwise they would never have acquired, and which perhaps they may never again possess. It is thus precisely the want of heroic greatness which makes this event singular and instructive; and if it be the aim of others to shew the superiority of genius over circumstances, I shall here exhibit a picture where necessity has called genius into life, and circumstances have created heroes.

Were it in any case allowable to mingle a higher providence with human affairs, it might surely be in this history, so contradictory does it seem to reason and experience. Philip the Second, the most powerful sovereign of his time, whose dreaded ascendancy threatened to swallow up the whole of Europe, whose treasures exceeded the united riches of all other Christian potentates, whose fleets held the dominion of every sea; -a monarch whose dangerous purposes were served by numberless armies,-armies hardened by long bloody wars, and a Roman discipline, animated by an overbearing national pride, and excited by the recollection of former victories to thirst for honour and booty, and to move as obedient instruments of the daring genius of their leader, this fearful man, obstinately attached to a project which engaged the restless labour of his long reign-all these dreadful resources directed to a single purpose, which he must yet leave unaccomplished in the evening of his days-Philip the Second opposed to a few feeble provinces, in a strife which he cannot bring to a close!

And to what provinces? Here a peaceful race of fishermen and herds in a forgotten corner of Europe, which they had laboriously gained from the ocean; the sea their occupation, their riches, and their torment; a free poverty their highest possession; their virtue all their fame. There a good-natured civilized trading people, luxuriating in the rich fruits of their successful industry, watchfully maintaining their beneficent laws. In the happy ease of prosperity they had forsaken the anxious domain of bodily want, and learned to thirst after a higher gratification. The new truth, whose cheering dawn now broke over Europe, darted a fertilizing beam into this favourable soil, and the free burghers joyfully received the light which was shut out by oppressed and saddened slaves. The cheerful courage which usually accompanies abundance and freedom, prompts them to examine into the authority of antiquated doctrines, and to break the disgraceful chain. The heavy rod of despotism hung over them, arbitrary power threatened to demolish the pillars of their happiness, the conservator of their laws became their tyrant. Simple in their policy as in their manners, they ventured to produce an obsolete treaty, and to remind the lord of both the Indies of the law of nature. A name decided the issue. What in Brussels was called lawful dealing, went in Madrid by the name of rebellion; the troubles of Brabant required a wise and politic mediator; Philip the Second sent them an executioner, and the signal of war was given. A tyranny without parallel assailed life and property. The despairing burghers, to whom the choice was left between two forms of death, chose the nobler on the field of battle. An opulent and luxurious people loves peace, but it becomes warlike as it becomes poor. It then ceases to tremble for a life robbed of all that made life desirable. The fury of revolt seized upon the remotest provinces; traffic was abandoned; the ships vanished from the havens; the artizan from his workshop; the husbandman from his desolate fields. Thousands fled to distant lands, thousands died upon the scaffolds, and new thousands pressed forward in their room; for that doctrine must surely be divine for which men can die so joy