musty creeds, there is a growing antagonism to it among the people. It is seldom preached. I heard an active church member say the other day that he had never heard it proclaimed from a pulpit in Kansas City. The key note of the age is," Peace on earth and good will to man," and this spirit is broadening and deepening every hour. Our cry is not for vengeance, but how best to elevate and save. Men go out into by-ways and hedges, and over oceans and mountains and continents, to seek and to save that which is lost. One more quotation from the Doctor on the question of justice. It is an old saying, that it is better for ten guilty men to escape than for one innocent man to suffer; and this is founded on our common ideas of right. But the Doctor says that this involves the same evil as to punish ten innocent men and let one guilty man go free. We know that under all circumstances human justice is uncertain, hence we lean on the side of mercy and give the accused the benefit of a doubt. But, contends this messenger of glad tidings, we must make a clean sweep, even if we sacrifice ten innocent men, or in that ratio.

How does this idea of justice comport with that wisdom that is from above, pure, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy? If the penalty is death, you rob society, sacrifice the life of an innocent man, inflict an evil that has no remedy, visit longlasting reproach and disgrace on a wife, children and friends. And this in the Doctor's estimation is a no greater evil than to let one guilty man go free. And it is possible, we know, for this guilty unpunished man to reform, and become useful to his family and society. But in the case of the innocent that suffers, the evil is final, there is no remedy. It seems that with Dr. Shedd this is only a

But

never

matter of equivalents, pound for pound, blood for blood, life for life. But with all these manifold inconsistencies, Dr. Shedd admits that there is such a thing as corrective punishment. He puts the case in this way, "Suffering that is educational and corrective may come to an end, because moral infirmity, and not guilt, is the cause for its infliction. suffering that is penal can come to an end, because guilt is the reason for its infliction. The lapse of time does not convert guilt into innocence; and I would add, neither does time convert infirmity into beauty and strength. Nor does time convert theft into honesty. But is this any good reason why the judge should sentence the thief to prison for life, without any reference to the degree of crime? It is very singular to me that the Doctor should evade the true issue in relation to the object of punishment. Where does the Bible speak of two opposite reasons, involving opposite results, why sin is punished? You may say, if you please, that the prodigal was in a state of moral infirmity. He was nevertheless a sinner that had gone down into the lowest regions of moral death. Punishment in his case was a means, and not an end. It brought him to himself; inspired him with the resolve, I will arise and go to my father. In like manner, God's government is parental; he has a right to the obedience of the child, and demands it, "Son give me thy heart." God's right to punish is founded on his previous right to our obedience, and must be made subservient to it. Punishment is not for his pleasure, but for our profit.

But the most remarkable reason given for endless retribution is, that the wicked prefer it. If this be so; if the inhabitants of this populous realm are moving in their own chosen

sphere, like the fish in the water, the fowl in the air, the beast in the forests, would it not be sensible to remove Dante's legend over the portals of hell," All hope abandon, ye who enter here?" A very singular advertisement when we consider the fact that they are dwelling in the home of their choice. One word in regard to the extent and scope of this congenial home. The Docter assures us it is a very small spot, a speck on the infinite azure of eternity, a spot on the sun, a lake but not an ocean. It is bottomless, but not boundless. But as the inhabitants are at home, living and moving in their own legitimate sphere, the Doctor should not be too positive in relation to the extent of the kingdom.

ALICE, GRAND DUCHESS OF HESSE.

April 5th, 1843, brought this second daughter, and third child, to Queen Victoria and Albert, Prince Consort. "She is large and pretty, and we think will be the beauty of the family," writes the queen. "Our little baby is to be called Alice, an old English name, and Maude, and Mary because she was born on aunt Gloucester's birthday."

The girlhood of the little Alice passed much like that of any other healthy, happy child; for the home life of the Royal household of England has ever been exceedingly sensible, and far more simple than is often the case in less elevated circles. But

very early the young Princess began to show that beautiful unselfishness, which in her early, and maturer womanhood, was the sweet, prominent feature of her character.

After the marriage of her eldest sister, the Princess Royal, Alice became more and more the companion of her father, whose noble, earnest character was in no small degree repeated in this loved daughter. Be

fore her confirmation, according to the usage of the Church of England, this careful parent was not content to intrust his child's spiritual instruction to the Dean of Windsor alone, but himself talked with and instructed her as he had previously done with the Princess Royal. About this time, the queen thus speaks of the Princess Alice: "She is very good, sensible, amiable, and a real comfort to me. I shall not let her marry, as long as I can reasonably delay her doing so."

But some outside the home circle began to think this pleasant-faced, "sensible, amiable" young lady, might prove a "real comfort" in another home.

Among the royal and titled guests at Windsor, in June, 1860, came the "manly and attractive" young Prince Louis of Hesse. The summer acquaintance must have proved very pleasant to the young people, for in the following November Prince Louis. is applying to his cousin, the Prince Regent of Prussia, for leave of absence from the Prussian Guards, in order to make a second visit to Windsor Castle. The course of true love seems in this case to have belied the proverb, for on the 30th of November, Prince Louis and the Princess Alice were betrothed with the cordial consent of all elder authorities. Even in the first happy weeks of her engagement, Alice's self-forgetful nature manifested itself in the tender care she bestowed upon her grandmother, the Duchess of Kent, then in failing health. The Princess spent much time with her at Frogmorereading aloud, or playing upon the piano for her amusement.

Amid the preparations for the Princess' marriage, the Prince Consort was taken ill, and died on the 14th of December, 1861. The Princess Alice was much with her father in his last days, and when the end

came, deeply overcome as she was by his loss, she proved herself the support and comfort of her heart-broken mother. She took the direction of every thing into her own hands; "all communications from the Ministers and household, passed through the Princess' hands to the Queen.

There was a quiet wedding at Osborne House, Isle of Wight, on the 1st of July, 1862, and on the 9th, Princess Alice left her beloved Eng

land for her new home.

The artless, unaffected letters written to her mother give pleasant glimpses of her honest, loving heart, and

earnest nature.

She writes of her goings and comings, of the books she and her husband read together, how the baby grows and laughs, and has been vaccinated, of the first dinner she gives, and how she arranged the table as "you and papa liked to have it;-' and never fails to send love and kindly messages to the old home servants. In her happy married life, and amid the new social duties devolving upon her, the Princess still found heart and leisure for extended benevolent work among the people with whom her lot was cast. She became the Protectress of a Hospital for Women, which was the beginning of her interest in many sanitary improvements. She was not content to relieve in an official way merely, but with one of her ladies-in-waiting, would personally seek out cases of suffering, and help with her own hands. Of one of these visits of mercy, she thus writes to her mother: "I sent Christa down

with the children, then with the husband's aid, cooked something for her (the sick woman), arranged her bed, took the baby and bathed its eyes, they were so bad, poor little thingand did odds and ends for her. I went twice." "I was with another

poor woman, even worse off, this morning. These poor people!

The war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, was a great grief to the Princess. She sent her two eldest children to England, and though in delicate health, busily employed herself in work for the hospitals-writing home for "old linen and rags, our house being new I have none.”

When the Prussians entered and

pillaged Darmstadt, the Princess, with her little new-born daughter, still preserved her fortitude, and even took charge of the belongings of her humble friends, hiding articles in her

own room.

The peace ratified at Berlin was a great joy to her, and the baby born in such a turbulent time was called Irene (Peace,) in commemoration of the day.

In this year, the Prince and Princess moved to their own palace; and she writes like a true and thrifty house-wife of the arranging of rooms and furniture, of the economies to be practised in consequence of building and moving-how she has herself made all the children's summer clothes, and baby's under-wear-noting too, that the household chaplain is to pray, and pronounce a blessing, when the family assemble for the first time under the new roof.

Her health had naturally suffered from the great mental and physical strain of the summer, and we find her leading a quiet life, teaching the little Victoria to read, and herself reading a great deal. "The thought of standing still if one does not study, urges me on-"a hint many young wives and mothers might well take and ponder.

She eagerly took up the idea of establishing a Frauen-Verein "Ladies' Union." She wished women and ladies of all classes to join this un

dertaking, which had heretofore been. left to religious orders entirely. In 1867 a committee was formed, consisting of six ladies, and four doctors, with the Princess as President. In 1868 the members of the "Ladies' Union" had greatly increased, and in '69 the number reached 2,500. Princess Alice was also much occupied with another great subject, the improvement of the condition of poor, unmarried women and girls-as well as the education of girls in general. With the assistance of Fraulein Louise Buchner, the Princess established another committee for the encouragement of "Female Industry;' and a permanent Bazaar was begun in November, 1869, called the "Alice Bazaar," for receiving and disposing of articles of needle-work, and also for obtaining employment for women of all classes. She taught the children also to take an interest in the poor and suffering, and share their little toys and treasures with those less favored than themselves, "because it is so good to teach them early to be kind and generous."

The declaration of war between France and Germany, in 1870, again absorbed the Princess in the care of sick and wounded soldiers, as well as those rendered destitute by the war. In her own palace she arranged a depot for necessaries for the sick and wounded. Besides constantly visiting the hospitals, and attending to sending off nurses and supplies to the field, she had several wounded in her own house, to whom she gave the most devoted care.

The "Alice Society" did good service in aiding those who became widows and orphans, or destitute by the war. Out of this society sprang the "Alice Lyceum," for the culture of women of the higher classes. This enterprise subsequently failed on account of "numerous external

difficulties." This year she also added another charity to the many already under her charge, an Orphan Asylum.

In 1873 a great sorrow fell upon the Princess, in the very sudden death of her second son, Frederick, who fell from his mother's bed-room window, upon the stone terrace below, dying in a few hours after, in his mother's arms.

The accession of Prince Louis to the Grand Duchy of Hesse in 1877, brought more and heavier duties to Alice, but the enthusiastic reception of the people when she returned to Darmstadt, was most gratifying to her.

Her last visit to England was made in 1878, and with her usual desire to aid whenever she could, she sought out the poor of the seaside resort at Eastbourne, where she was staying,

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visiting the sick, and showing sympathy to all." The Refuges for penitent fallen women, had always had her tender interest, and this summer she visited the Albion House at Brighton, under the care of Mrs. Murray Vicars.

"I come as one woman to another,” were her simple words, when Mrs. Vicars begged to be allowed to tell the women who their visitor was.

On her return to Darmstadt, she gave renewed attention to all her charitable institutions. In November of this year, diphtheria in a very malignant form, broke out in the Ducal palace. All the children, except the second daughter-early removed to a distance were stricken down, and very soon the Grand Duke also. The youngest darling, the little Princess " Mag," died, and with almost super-human self-restraint and calmness, the heart-broken mother arranged every detail of the funeral, and when the still form of her child was borne away, went calmly to the Duke's bedside, for he was to be kept

in ignorance of what was going on. When her husband and the children were pronounced out of danger, and just four weeks after the death of her little "Mag," the Duchess was taken ill with the same dread disease. After a week of great suffering she fell asleep murmuring her child's name, and her father's.

Her whole life had been one of obedience. The duty which lay next to her hand she took up bravely, following out the idea beautifully expressed by herself:

"Life is meant for work, and not for pleasure, and I learn more and more to be content with that which the Almighty sends me, and to find sunshine in spite of the clouds."

Not only were floral tributes from Court and nobles, from regiments far and near, whose soldiers she had cared for, laid upon her coffin, but we hear of a poor peasant woman who brought a wreath of rosemary and two white flowers, to place above the still heart, which for the first time had no kindly throb. Not only did stalwart soldiers weep over her bier, but close beside them pressed two orphan girls each with a bunch of violets, whose fragrance was not sweeter than the life fled from the still form, over which so many tears were falling.-Lucy R. Fleming in The Woman's Magazine.

JESUS, THE REAL CHRIST.

So has the history of Christianity, and the life of its Author, and of his Apostles, to be studied long, and from new points of view, and in different modes of mind, and in varying stages of society, before we see all the riches of this volume, all the laws, motives, principles, influences and tendencies that branch forth from the Christ. Men before thought they had done much in this sphere, but when Luther comes, or Swedenborg

or Neander writes, or Butler, the Christian world can never be as it was before; even the life of all lives is seen through an altered medium and atmosphere of our own minds. This study of the history of Christ and his religion is a great desideratum; it is too much neglected, and when attended to, is not always pursued with right views and purposes.

The glory of the gospel is not simply in itself, considered abstractly from all human society, but also in its multiplied, heaven-designed adaptations. Its historical, traditional character is one of these. It has its lives with other lives, its heroes with other heroes, though different in character, its biographies and letters and discourses with other biographies, letters, and discourses. We can easily conceive of this truth having been communicated in other ways, and, if man were endowed with intellect alone, ways equally efficient as the present. The truth might have been traced in blazing and everburning characters along the overarching sky, or painted on the leaves. of the forest, or muttered in the rippling brook, or sounded abroad by the thunder. For in all these ways are not lessons continually taught us? and it needed but a step more to teach still more and better ones, a yet livelier wisdom, a warmer love, a more articulate and impressive purpose of the benignant Father of all? But not so have we been made, and not so does he, who knows what we are and will be, treat us. We are beings of will, power of choice, affections, motives. And we wanted, in order to be persuaded in our heart of hearts of the infinite loveliness of virtue, not a cold revelation lettered on the sky, not a brighter sun, not a softer moon, not sweeter music of bird, waterfall, or sighing winds, or ocean's haughty roar, but we needed