in sight the stately horses, and the glittering courtiers with all their gay attendants. Lonely and rudely clad, Rabant stepped before them. He must have known the danger of that hour, for threatened doom hung over him; only one word from this minister of war, and a fearful death was before him. But he boldly confessed he was Paul Rabant, the outlawed Huguenot preacher, and placed in the hand of the Marquis the petition he held for the king.

Perhaps the boldness of the pastor filled the General with admiration and respect. He promised to present the petition, uncovered his head, and passed on. And Rabant, unmolested, went back to his wandering life; but the petition was fruitless. The Huguenots had not known the king.

Yet bold to expose himself as Paul Rabant was, it is said his sermons had more sweetness than vehemence.' And he refused to preach at those places where the young men had come armed to protect him. His gentle heroism was long remembered, and his unceasing exhortations to the people that they should bear their sufferings with meekness and patience, and submit to the king in all things which were allowed by God.

But the government and the priests became more than ever the bitter enemies of Rabant. He was forced to wander in the wildest places, changing his name and his dress continually.

For some time he lived in a little hut, in a lonely place far away from town. Indeed it was scarcely a hut at all, but a hollow scooped out of the ground, and covered with stones and bushes. But a shepherd leading his flock over the heath one day lighted on the little cave; it was safe for Rabant no more.

Here he had slept by night, and often studied by day. Paul Rabant was sorry to leave the rude cave which had grown almost dear to him. Many and many were the dangers to which his life was exposed, yet still the people crowded secretly to hear him, and he worked untiringly.

'Forgive, my dear sir and honoured

friend,' he wrote to one whom he loved in Switzerland, 6 a silence which it has not been in my power to avoid. Pressed by a multitude of cccupations, the day is not long enough for my work, and a good part of my work is often employed in it.'

But Paul Rabant survived the persecutions. He lived through the reign of Louis Sixteenth, a good, but not a strong king. In the year 1792 religious liberty was proclaimed in France. The Huguenots hired the church of the Preaching Friars at Nismes, and for the first time in fortyfour years Rabant saw his people gathered round him in a large, public place of worship.

Rabant was seventy-four years old. He offered the dedication prayer, and closed the service, with tears of joy and gratitude, by reading the prayer of Simeon.

'Let me now, O Lord,
'Go forth in peace,

'For, according to Thy promise,
'My eyes have seen

Thy glorious salvation,

'For which I have waited continually.'

These

But he had yet more to suffer. days of quiet past; and then came to France the Reign of Terror, when nothing good was safe. Paul Rabant was dragged to prison. He was released indeed; but he had suffered much. His wife was dead; his eldest son was dead; his other sons in exile or in prison. Old and feeble, Paul Rabant could bear no more. 'He collected his soul before God and entered into rest, by a death simple as his life had been.'

H. W. H. W.

BLESSED ARE THEY WHICH
ARE PERSECUTED
FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS' SAKE:

FOR

THEIRS IS

THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.

ONCE

singing in the streets for bread. His father was a miner, and not able to support him at the grammar school of Eisenach. That day the daughter of the provost heard a sweet voice singing in the streets. She went to the door and called the singer; she

took him in and gave him a warm meal, and before he went away, told him to come back as often as he was hungry. By and by she made him come and live altogether in her house. This young boy was Martin Luther-not the great Reformer yet, but only a young lad; and perhaps the first

night he slept under Madam Cotta's roof he said to himself, I am little, but God cares for me. This was true of his whole after history. By and by he goes to a convent,— the young student is now a young monk. His heart becomes sore on account of his sin; he tries to get pardon by doing penance. But he comes no nearer pardon. At length he is very ill; it seems as if he is about to die. But God sends him a friend. Staupitz points him to the Saviour, and bids him look for pardon to the dying love of Christ. God is caring for him, leading him to Himself. At last the young monk is the great Reformer. All Europe has heard of Martin Luther, the man who will not be put down by the pope, and who will be judged by nothing but the word of God. A great

council is called to try him. Its meets at the city of Worms. On one side are the cardinals, prelates, and princes of Europe; on the other, the solitary man who claims to be tried by the Word of God, and nothing but the Word. He is but one against so many; he is feeble against the power of the world. But God throws His shield around him. He goes from the council unharmed; and that night, when he lies down to rest, perhaps he feels as he did on his first night under the hospitable roof at Eisenach,-I am little, but God cares for me.

PEEPS AT ROME.

THE CATACOMBS-II.

THE whole way (described in our last

number), that is, the underground way, is lined with graves. First a grave would be scooped out lengthways in the rocksay on the floor-and when occupied, filled in with marble, and hermetically sealed by cement. Another grave would be excavated above it, and a third above that again,— grave rising above grave, like the sleeping berths in a ship. Occasionally the guide pauses to hold up his taper to an inscription on some grave. As a rule, however, the marble tablets containing these epitaphs have been removed to the Museum in the Lateran. This has stripped the Catacombs

of not a little of their interest; but then it has placed the epitaphs where they can be seen in good light, and studied to advantage.

Other objects of interest have also been removed. In the Vatican we saw a tear bottle that had been found in one of the wall-tombs, as also some instruments of torture from a martyr's grave. Articles of furniture were few in the dark subterranean chambers. The chairs were chiselled out! in the rock. But here and there a lamp was found, by which the darkness had been partially dispelled. It is one of these lamps that appears in our engraving.

Having followed the guide a considerable way, we came to a spot where the gallery conducted to a little chamber, called the Chapel of the Popes. It is very interesting to stand in this chapel and look round. It is lined round and round with the tombs of several of the earliest popes,—from the year 200 to 296 of the present era. We could not help honouring these old worthies, who sealed their testimony with their blood. And we were all the more drawn to them in admiration and love, that on the tombstones that record their names, each of them is simply designated Bishop and Martyr.' This little chamber was in the days of old a place of worship. When the Christians were persecuted in Rome, they betook themselves to the Catacombs. When they could no longer meet for worship in the city above, they met for worship in the city of the dead underground. At first, before the days of persecution began, the entrances to the Catacombs stood quite open on the public highways. Afterwards, when a place of safe retreat from their enemies was needed, the public entrances were closed. And none but those who belonged to the holy brotherhood knew the means of access. The Catacombs thus became a refuge for the living, as well as a place of repose for the dead. But it was impossible for Christians to meet together without engaging in worship. And as this could not take place in the long narrow galleries which I have just been describing, little chambers were prepared as places of

worship. As these had to be cut out of the rock, they were necessarily very small. But sometimes two and even three were constructed so near each other as to be within ear shot; so that as many as a hundred could meet together and join together in the worship of God. The little chamber in which I stood in the Catacomb of St. Calixtus, was such a place of worship and holy communion. There was the tabletomb on which the bread and wine were placed for the Holy Supper. Beneath that table-tomb a martyr was buried. It was a sacred spot, and so it was used as the

table of the Lord. By and by as one bishop after another was buried there, it became still more sacred in the eyes of the faithful. And here they met to show forth the dying love of Jesus, knowing full well that on their very next return to Rome they might be called on to show their love by laying down their life. You cannot stand in that

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little chamber without thinking of all this. To me it was the most sacred place I saw in Rome.

Near the Catacomb of St. Calixtus, is that of Praetextatus, the entrance to which is well brought out in our engraving. I may mention that there are as many as sixty different Catacombs already explored. They all lie between the first and third milestone from the city. They are excavated on different levels, so that sometimes there are as many as five different galleries, the one above the other. The turnings and windings of these galleries are almost endless. It may give you some idea of their size, when I tell you that although Signor Rossi has spent twenty years in making explorations, still more remains to be explored; and also that of the Catacombs already explored, the length is calculated at seven hundred miles. In the Catacomb of St. Calixtus, some seventy thousand were buried. The number interred in all the Catacombs is estimated at six millions. Down to the year 410 A.D., these underground cemeteries received nearly all the Christian dead of Rome.

The church of Rome aboveground is very different from the church of Rome underground. In the churches of Rome there are figures and paintings of the virgin here and there and everywhere: in the old church of Rome, represented by the Catacombs, you have paintings and figures of Christ. In Rome aboveground, you have the cross everywhere: in Rome belowground. there is not a cross to be found. The one-prevailing emblem is the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb on His shoulders. In Rome of to-day you have the inscription, Requiescat in pace-Let him rest in peace. In Rome of a purer time, you have no such thing as a prayer for the dead; the epitaphs are quiescit' or 'requiescit -he rests, or he is at rest. In the Vatican the pope is infallible, he is the vicar of Jesus Christ on earth: in the Catacombs, the popes who are interred there are simply 'Bishops and Martyrs.' In the Roman Catholic Church of the present time, you hear much of purgatory: in the Roman

6

Church of the first four centuries, you hear nothing of purgatory. The epitaphs say, Lucius dormit et vivit in pace Christi-Lucius sleeps and lives in the peace of Christ. Ivit ad Deum-He went to God. These epitaphs remind us of Paul's words, absent from the body, present with the Lord.' They leave no room for an intermediate place, beyond this life, where, by means of purifying fires, souls may be prepared for heaven. Purgatory is not found in the Bible; neither is there any reference to it in the Catacombs. It was first preached by a pope called Gregory the Great.

What a difference there is between the Church of Rome of an earlier date, and the Roman Church of to-day. Let us hope and

pray that it may one day be the pure church which it was in the days of the Catacombs.

And let us hope and pray that our death, come when it may, may be a sleep 'in Jesus.' We do not call our places of burial catacombs, as they did in Rome. We call them cemeteries, that is, sleeping places. May we all sleep at last in Jesus. In that case it matters not where we may be buried; whether beneath the clover and the sod,' or ocean's 'vast and wandering grave.' For all who sleep in Jesus shall awake in Him.

'Asleep in Jesus! far from thee

Thy kindred and their friends may be;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wakes to weep.'

A. G. F.