THE MARQUIS OF VICO.

No. II.

THOUGH Galeazzo received such earnest encouragements on the one hand, yet, on the other, he met with serious hindrances in running the race that was set before him. The mockings, reproaches, and hatred of an ungodly world, which never fails to attack those who truly turn from the world to follow Christ, gave him comparatively little concern; but he was alive to the displeasure of his parent, who could not be satisfied to see his reluctance to push himself further into notice. The marquis was very zealous for his own religion, but he saw, with much uneasiness, that his son had joined himself to a new sect. Often did he reprove him for this, and call upon him with all the weight of the authority of a father, to banish from his mind these melancholy thoughts. This was very painful to Galeazzo, who had never refused to render to his father all due obedience and respect. Nor was it less distressing to him to see his wife, a woman of good understanding and amiable conduct, differ from him in regard to the one thing needful. As she was sure that his altered views would not fail to bring disgrace on him and all his family, she ceased not to lament over him, with tears and complaints; and most of the higher class in Naples, who were allied to him by the ties of kindred and friendship, and who used to include him in all their parties of pleasure, regretted that he withdrew from them and sought retirement. His office at court also required a severe struggle with his feelings. The subjects of discourse there were entirely opposed to religion and the things of God, and frequent mention was made of the severe measures which ought to be used with those who had departed from the church of Rome. All these circumstances kept him in a continued state of mental conflict, and much strength and courage from above was needful to enable him to hold on his way, without yielding to these discouragements.

At this time, a religious sect of the day, called the Anabaptists, appeared at Naples, and they urged Galeazzo to come over and join their party, though they perceived that he was not thoroughly acquainted with the Holy Scriptures. He was young, and his habits were not particularly studious, nor had he been long acquainted with the words of life;

therefore this account of him is not surprising. But his views of the truth were sufficiently simple and clear to enable him to detect and reject their errors. Another conflict followed, which was attended with greater danger. There were in Naples several disciples of the same Valdez who was before mentioned, with whom Galeazzo had intercourse. Although enlightened in their views of justification, and as to the abuses of the Romish church, they had not made great progress in the right way, for they continued to attend the Romish forms of public worship, and to hear mass. Long did Galeazzo hesitate as to this practice, and would have been, like many others, ruined by it, if he had continued it. Had he then been brought into danger on account of his religion, he might probably have renounced his faith, not being deeply rooted in it. The providence of God, however, preserved him. The duties of his station required him to visit Germany, and there he received fuller instruction in the truths of the gospel. At Strasburg he again saw the same Peter Martyr, who had some time before left Italy, upon conscientious grounds, and was a public teacher of divinity in that city; and who could have been so well fitted to guide him in his progress in grace and knowledge as Martyr, his early friend, in whom he could repose full confidence?

His eyes were now opened to see the idolatry of the mass, and of worshipping the virgin Mary. On his return to Naples, he spoke seriously on these subjects to his earlier associates, the hearers of Valdez, showing them how much they still leaned towards the church of Rome, and set before them the duty of all true believers, to flee from idolatry. They heeded him not, having no relish for the doctrine which exposed its professors to trials, persecution, the loss of goods, banishment, and, in short, all kinds of distress. Galeazzo in a short time found that he was forsaken by them, which was no slight cause of grief to him; and his friends, not content with this, sought to dissuade him from openly opposing the errors of the church of Rome, which would only exclude him from it irremediably. During his late journey, he had become further conversant with the religion of Rome, and he saw how nearly allied to its errors were those of an opposite course, even unbelief and infidelity. He had been in Rome itself, and had ob

served the corruptions ruling in that city. There were then many learned and able men among the natives of Italy, to whom the Holy Scriptures had been opened, through the influence of the Reformation, and thus their classic dreams of a heathen paradise had been destroyed. Even those who had shared the first dawn of the true light, were inwardly a prey to the suggestions of infidelity.

Examples of cardinals and others might be multiplied; but one will suffice, even that of Bembo, who in speaking to the luxurious pope Leo x., called the gospel of Jesus Christ a profitable fable. This cardinal Bembo had heard and highly applauded the Protestant discourses of the justly-renowned Ochino, yet he scrupled not to sign with his own hand the shameful bull which authorized the sale of indulgences. Neither his belief nor his unbelief really came from his heart; the true root of his conduct existed in his indifference to religion. Being visited by Sabinus, the son-in-law of Melancthon, who, on his arrival in Italy, carried with him a letter of introduction from that reformer to the cardinal, Bembo asked him many questions as to the salary received by Melancthon,-the number of his hearers, and his opinions respecting the resurrection and the life to come. He was told by Sabinus, that Melancthon received for his income about 300 florins; upon which the cardinal exclaimed, Ungrateful Germany, to prize no higher the numerous and painful labours of such a man!" When he heard that Melancthon had usually 1,500 hearers, he was unwilling to believe it, supposing that no university of Europe, excepting that of Paris, contained so many scholars. In reply to the third question, Sabinus mentioned the writings of Melanethon. "I had thought him too wise a man to believe these doctrines,' answered the cardinal. When the highest offices in the church were held by men who thus doubted, can it be thought strange that Galeazzo became disturbed, and that he longed to receive the further instruction, for lack of which his hungry soul was ready to perish, and without which he could not be satisfied. They who would rise must first be humbled in the dust, for the strength of the Most High is made perfect in weakness. He leads his people through the deep waters of sorrow, and so it was with Galeazzo.

All the hindrances which could obstruct his path seemed to arise at once.

When he thought of his father, who so tenderly loved him, the idea of separation from him became unspeakably painful. Could he remove the only prop of his parent's declining years, and render him miserable in old age? Could he leave a brand on his own reputation, and that of his family? Could he be the death of one to whom he owed his own life, and who would willingly have perished to secure his own safety? When he looked upon his wife, in the bloom of life and beauty, her tenderness and faithful affection touched him to the heart. "Can I," he reasoned, "not for a season, as when I visit the court of the emperor, but for ever, separate myself from my consort, whom I love so dearly, who is worthy of all my affection, who shares in all my cares and labours, and to whom I can open all my plans and schemes? What misery will be hers! How many nights will she pass without being able to sleep! Will she not be entirely overwhelmed by sorrow and despondency?" He pictured to himself the sighs and lamentations of his Vittoria, and fancied that he heard her calling upon him, " My beloved husband, whither art thou gone? Wherefore hast thou forsaken thy sorrowing spouse? What can I do without thee? Does this prove the love which thou didst so often profess to me? What could have occasioned thy removal from me, which would not have bound me to go with thee? What effect can follow thy departure, but that I shall be the most wretched of mortals, while others will scorn and turn away from thee?" Such trains of thought constantly arose in his mind. Nor was he less grieved at the idea of parting from his children. He had six, and they were not of an age to understand what their loss would be. The oldest was but fifteen, and the youngest only four years old. He loved them tenderly, and they were affectionately attached to him. Truly he needed a strength higher than his own, to enable him to restrain his feelings, whenever his wife brought to him the youngest of her sons. Could he take leave of them, and never see them any more? What would be the lot of these poor orphans? would be found to come forward and assist them in life, if he himself abandoned them?

Who

He met with other allurements also, though not so enticing as these were. He must part with his relatives, and many distinguished friends. He must

began to devise some plan by which the threatened evil might be averted. At last, he formed the following scheme :Galeazzo had a relation, whom from his youth he had loved as a brother. The old marquis sent him to Geneva, with a letter, in which he earnestly entreated and urged his son to return home, to comfort his bereaved family, and rescue them from the ruin which threatened them. At this time Galeazzo resided in a mean dwelling that he had purchased, with two servants, who supplied him with necessaries. The meeting with the friend | of his youth was an affecting one, and for some minutes neither of them could speak. Afterwards the guest discharged his commission, adding to it his own lamentations and entreaties, and describing in the liveliest manner the grief of his relatives.

The answer of Galeazzo was briefly given, in words to this effect:-He had not left his father or his religion without reflection, or from a mere fanciful imagination; but he had seriously considered his path, and the grace of God had enlightened his understanding to perceive the truth. He knew that disgrace and trouble, losses and distresses awaited him; he was aware of all the results of his new mode of conduct, but he saw only one choice open to him,-whether secretly to struggle with his conscience, in the midst of soul-destroying errors, which would be offensive to God, or to quit his native land, with all that he valued, in this world, for the sake of serving God freely and without restraint. He knew that the Lord Jesus Christ had said, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." This was the motive which had constrained him to renounce all his earthly friends and possessions, and therefore though comparatively poor and comfortless, he felt rich and happy, for he was surrounded by the true church of God, who worshipped him in spirit and in truth, able to hear his word, unmixed with vain traditions of men, and to see his sacraments administered without the delusions of idolatry. He could enjoy undisturbed intercourse with pious persons, and night and day his meditations were sweet on the mercies which he had

received in times past, and the blessings to come, which Christ has prepared for all who believe in him.

Such an answer was not satisfactory to the envoy of the aged marquis. But he had no reasons to resist those of his friend; and seeing that it was impossible to shake the firmness of Galeazzo, he left him, and returned to Italy. They parted in deep sorrow, and with many bitter tears: for their long-continued intimacy, and great similarity of character, as well as the ties of blood, had established between them a sincere and affectionate friendship.

The news of the ill success of this embassy increased the uneasiness that was felt at Naples, where the possessions of Galeazzo were seized for confiscation, (as he was accused of high treason against God,) and he and his children were deprived of the right of succeeding to the wealth possessed by his father. The old marquis now applied to the emperor, that if his son were thus punished, the forfeit might not extend to his grandchildren; but he also resolved to make one more effort to rescue Galeazzo from the hands of the heretics. He sent a servant with letters, in which he used all the authority of a parent, to compel him to return, on a set day, to Verona, where he would meet him, on his way to the imperial court. He also sent another letter, containing a passport, from the republic of Venice, which he hoped would reach his son in safety. Galeazzo thought such an appeal was not to be resisted, and resolved to obey it, though he feared the meeting would only render both parties unhappy, for his purpose was still unshaken. Having sought strength from above, and armed himself with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, he left Geneva for Verona, on April 19th, 1553; and there he met his father, who received him with much affection, though he did not conceal his concern, and earnestly urged his return, setting before him the shame which must otherwise rest on his family, and trying to work upon his feelings of duty and family affection.

Galeazzo answered with all due respect, that his conscience would not allow him to forsake his principles, and he explained the motives that governed him. He could not promise to be more mindful of the welfare of his family than of the honour of his God. His father saw that it was impossible to shake this resolution, which seemed to him obstinacy. When he had explained his plan of applying to the emperor, he directed

his son to remain in Italy, till his application had been made. To this Galeazzo consented, and he faithfully adhered to this promise, and remained in Italy until the following August, when he heard that the request of his father had been granted.

SCRIPTURE ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE

EAST.

IN the laws of Moses, the Israelites were forbidden to muzzle the ox while treading out the corn. This was a merciful law; for it seems certainly cruel to force an animal, perhaps suffering from hunger, to walk round for hours in one dull but laborious routine, up to the ears in his favourite food, and with his nose constantly almost buried in the midst of it, without even allowing him to taste it, when all that he could eat would never be missed, in the plentiful season of harvest. The people of India do not generally observe the merciful rule of the Mosaic law, but, on the contrary, most of the bullocks, employed in threshing, are closely muzzled, to prevent them from eating the corn. Though the Hindoos venerate cows, and, more especially bulls, as sacred animals, they act often towards them in a manner very inconsistent with their own professed creed. To oppress bulls and cows is declared, by the unanimous consent of all their own Shasters, to be one of the greatest sins; and to kill them for food is regarded as little better than murder, and by some as even more sinful. But, though they would not kill them outright, and eat them, they work them harder than any other class of animals, and are no more tender towards them, when alive, than Smithfield drovers, or Whitechapel butchers are, to the animals destined to supply the shambles of London.

Another illustration of Scripture frequently occurs in Bahár, and other parts of India. In Isa. i. 8, it is said, "The daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers." In perusing this passage, the mere English reader is apt to think of the "lodge" mentioned, as a small, but permanent, building in a garden, inclosed like the gardens of Europe. Cucumbers are, however, usually grown in India, and likely, also, in Palestine, and other eastern countries, not in gar

dens, inclosed and protected like those of Europe, but in open fields, like turnips, potatoes, or any similar vegetable. Here, in the centre of a field of cucumbers, melons, Indian corn, or any other largestalked grain, as well as in groves of guavas, plantains, etc., on all of which birds are most especially disposed to make depredations, there is generally a small, temporary platform erected, sometimes as high as ten or twelve feet. This is formed by a few wooden posts, or strong bamboos, driven into the ground, and fixed together at the top, by cords made of straw, or of long grass. A few smaller bamboos are laid across these, on which is perched a man, or, more usually, a boy, who is generally armed with a pellet-bow, from which he discharges balls of dried clay, at the invading flocks of parrots, crows, minas, etc., who are constantly coming to help themselves to food. He accompanies every discharge with loud shouts, which, as well as his missiles, are often ineffectual in dispersing the hungry, or at least destructive swarms of chatterers, by which, during the whole day, the ripening fields are infested. This Argus himself, however, often falls asleep on his platform, especially after taking his dinner, which is brought to him from the village, when he is easily overcome by the heat of the sun, and then the field is immediately covered, with hundreds of greedy depredators. At other times, he is tempted to wander from his post, to enjoy the luxury of a drink of cool water from the Ganges, or some neighbouring well, or, it may be, to gossip with some friend in another field, and then all the birds driven, perhaps, from other places, by more wakeful or active watchmen, come to prey on the field of the sluggard. In spite of all watching, the countless myriads of birds in India must devour an immense quantity of the fruits, and grain crops. The parrots, especially, which are as numerous in some parts of northern India, as the rooks in Europe, are peculiarly destructive. They do not content themselves with pecking the grains from the ear, but break off the whole ear from the stalk, and fly away with it to a little distance, and when they have eaten a few grains from it, they cast it from them, and return to the field for another; so that what they actually eat is little compared to what they destroy. They act in the same way with fruit, of which they are very fond, carrying often away