terval of considerable length, (which is the millennium,) at the end of which the deliverance shall be completed.

The condition of the Tious during that interval is determined by the relation in which it stands to Christ and the glorified saints, on the one hand, and to Satan and sinful men upon the earth, on the other. Sinful men dwelling upon the earth shall stand to it in the same relation in which fallen Adam stood to it, or in which mankind stand to it now,-thus perpetuating at least some portion of that part of the bondage of corruption which is due to the curse inflicted at the fall, and in which it may be remarked that the system of prey was not included. At the beginning of that interval, Satan is bruised under the feet of the saints, (Rom. xvi. 20,) and is cast into the abyss; and as his direct relation to the earth as its lord is thus destroyed, it is reasonable to suppose that the results of that relation should cease, and that the bondage under which the creature groaned before the fall of man, and which is due to Satan alone, should be removed almost if not altogether. If any part of it should remain, it is because, while in the abyss, he has still a moral bond of connexion with the wicked upon earth, through the sin that rules over them, and in them, and through them, with the creature. He still remains in an indirect relation to it, and indirectly connected with it, which prevents the bondage from being fully removed. He appears upon earth for the last time, to attempt the reestablishment of his lordship over it in all its completeness, which shews that till the end his connexion is not completely severed. The Lord Jesus Christ is the rightful and true Lord and Head of the creation, and the glorified saints stand under Him in a similar relation thereto; in that relation, indeed, in which Adam would have stood to it, had he, by obedience, prevailed over the powers of evil. The full emancipation of the creature would, in that case, have ensued. And the relation in which Christ and the saints stand to the earth during the millennium is not followed by its full and natural consequences; because its power is, in some small measure, neutralised by the connexion in which wicked men and Satan, the former directly, the latter indirectly, stand to the creature. And thus we see how it comes to pass that the bondage is not completely removed till the end, when the connexion of Satan and the wicked with the xrious is entirely severed; when they can no longer even pretend to the lordship thereof, having been utterly cast out from it; and Christ and the saints are its only lords and possessors in the unlimited and unopposed exercise of all authority and power.--(To be continued.)

ART. IV-NAPOLEON AND ITALY.

We have more than once intimated our dissent from what we may call the "Napoleonic" construction of certain parts of the prophetic Word.

That the present emperor of the French is, in one sense, a prophetic character, we might perhaps be willing to admit. He is an important contribution to the present prophetical position of European affairs; he is a providential instrument in maturing and forwarding a certain class of prophetical events; he is weaving his part of the great Roman web which is rapidly approaching its consummation. But when we have made these general affirmations respecting him, we have conceded to him all the space and importance which can be claimed for him by students of the prophetic Word.

He is the fulfiller, but not the fulfilment, of prophecy.

Deep of purpose as he is said to be, he is, perhaps, not so deep as he gets credit for being. He is taciturn, because he has nothing to say; he is uncommunicative, because he has nothing to communicate. He is obviously at his wit's end frequently, and knows as little as we do what his next move is to be. He is far more the creature of circumstances than the controller of events, or the director of movements. Of this fact he seems abundantly conscious; and it is this consciousness, as much as anything else, that is stimulating his warlike preparations by land and sea. He knows not what may come next, and he is preparing for the worst.

His plans, announcements, and actions, during these last ten years, have been a series of contradictions and vacillations; one aim alone being palpable and paramount, the security of his own throne and sceptre. That he desires peace, we believe; but for the security of his position warlike excitement is needed; and therefore he lets loose war at times, and covers France with the insignia of "glorious battle" to ingratiate himself with a nation whose passion is war. Besides, he must have a "position" in Europe among its kings and statesmen ; he must be feared abroad, as well as admired at home; and, for this end, he must have the first army and navy in Europe, whether he is to use them or not. He knows that he is neither loved nor trusted; that the old despotisms on all sides of him hate him with their whole hearts, and suspect his every word and movement. Therefore he must have a substitute for confidence. He must be in a position to shake his sword at them all, and make them feel that he cares not how much they dis

trust and dislike him. He does not want war;—that would lead to a hostile coalition, and endanger his throne; he wants to have all that war could give him without drawing a sword; he wants the moral and political results of his "uncle's" victories without the victories themselves. He wants, without firing a shot or losing a man, to do all that Napoleon I. did by twenty years of bloodshed and havoc.

Most of all, he wants to be at peace with Britain. Our friendship is his security, as our hostility was his "uncle's " ruin. He is quite aware that the English alliance has given him a position in Europe which nothing else could have done; and that, had it not been for this, a despotic coalition would long ere this have hemmed him in with armies, and compelled him to accept unequal battle, or to fling away his crown. He dare not break with England even though he would. But he does not want to break with us. He knows us as no European monarch ever knew; he knows us, and he honours us above most. He is proud of his alliance with us, as well he may. The last nation he will quarrel with will be England; and that not merely because he desires our friendship, but because he knows that from the hour that he breaks with us his own security is gone; his crown is not worth a twelvemonth's pur

chase.

A wealthy, powerful, prosperous kingdom will always be courted, even though envied, and perhaps hated. The rich have many friends. It is so with us; never more so. Why? Because nearly every other kingdom of Europe is on the verge of bankruptcy, and falling asunder by reason of internal discontent and misrule. The iron and the clay do not assimilate; and all the kingdoms around us, ill-formed, ill-knit, ill-governed, are threatening to break up. At present, through God's wondrous grace towards us, we sit secure; well-moulded, well-knit, well-governed, exhibiting a unity and compact stability, as well as an energy and buoyancy, which make us a nation wondered at by all. In us it seems all iron and no clay at present; at least the clay gives no sign of weakness or repulsion. Of no other kingdom can this be said. Hence the eagerness with which our alliance is sought after, even when we are vilified and assailed. In a world-wide storm like the present, what vessel would not gladly anchor under our lee, or lash themselves to our sides! The old rock stands well; and its cliffs do noble battle with the waves. It has afforded shelter to kings and anchorage to kingdoms for many a day; and it is likely to do so for many days to come. It is about the only really stable thing at present over all the broad earth. No one

knows all this better than Louis Napoleon. He feels that he himself needs a prop, and that his kingdom needs a place of anchorage. Without Britain at his back, his position would be at this moment perilous in the extreme. Conscious of this, he bears placidly all the hard words we fling at him, and rewards us with bland speeches for our revilings. He would be superhuman if he did not feel our sometimes unjust and venomous attacks; and long ere this he would have taken his revenge had not British alliance been an absolute necessity to him. Besides, he has sense enough to calculate the relative values of our abuse and others' flatteries; and, doubtless, he has ten times more confidence in us after all than in Austria or Russia. He knows that when we have abused him we have done all that we really want to do, and that, even though we had the power, we would not lay a hand upon his throne. Whereas, he knows full well that the surrounding despotisms look on him as an upstart and a firebrand, and that, as soon as they have the power, they will make quick end of his illegitimate usurpation. Nay, he knows that if Russia, Austria, and Prussia could only win England over to a coalition, they would make short work of him, and at once proceed to remove this eyesore of legitimacy, and to quench this dreaded firebrand.

His

The

Wise, bold, and stubborn as the French emperor is supposed to be, he has many times over belied all these characteristics. He has vacillated, wavered, he has said and unsaid, done and undone, advanced and retreated, gained ground and lost it, time after time. He has prospered and he has failed; he has indicated purposes and shrunk from carrying them out. whole career has been an alternate success and blunder. course of the first Napoleon was unmixed success up to a certain point, when his star began to descend; but the career of Napoleon III. has been a strange mixture of weakness and boldness, of vacillation and obstinacy, of success and failure; as if his star was to know no ascendant, but to shine and darken, rise and fall alternately; shewing that he has another work to do than his uncle had, yet, that whenever that work is done, he will be set aside like his predecessor, to make room for one who will eclipse them both.

He, however, who is to eclipse them both, will not be Emperor of France, but King of Rome.

*Newspaper editors are fond of flinging Boulogne in the emperor's teeth, and reminding him of the castle of Ham, as memorials of folly. But they ought not to forget that a gunner must sacrifice many a shot before he finds his range; and, besides, that almost all successful lives have begun with a mistake.

What, then, is the work for which Louis Napoleon seems raised up? Not certainly to invade Britain; nor enter on the mission of Antichrist; nor, perhaps, to accomplish any great thing, save to prepare for another greater than himself.

The first Napoleon shook Europe to pieces, so that for a while it lay dismembered, broken, split and fissured in many strange ways, reduced to a sort of pulp or mass of clay. Since his day it has been trying to gather its pieces together and resume its old affinities and settle down in its old centres. It has not yet succeeded, however. No cement has been found sufficiently tenacious to fasten the fragments; and the recent announcement of the principle of "nationalities" has counteracted any little progress made in reuniting kingdoms and restoring Europe to its old condition. The first Napoleon's work, then, still remains; and disjointed Europe lies waiting for a reconstruction on different principles, and with different centres. It is this broken mass that Napoleon III. has to work upon, and his errand is the redivision of the Roman empire, and the repartition into ten kingdoms, that in the last days, which are now hastening on, it may be precisely in the condition which Daniel predicted.

Italy is now one kingdom; and its new metropolis will be the old seven-hilled city on the banks of the Tiber.

We know that Daniel's fourth empire is the Roman; and we know that the capital, not of Italy only, but of the Roman empire, was Rome. As it was at first, so will it be at last. With the resuscitated Roman empire will be displayed the resuscitated capital, destined yet to be the scene of greater wonders than it has been since the days of Romulus or Cæsar.

Rome will rise again, and, it may be, run a course of longer duration than we expect. For a season it may become the abode of true religion, and God may have a people there and a goodly church, worthy of apostolic days. Then there will be the falling away, and the revelation of the man of sin. Popery has passed away, or become the helpmeet of infidelity; infidelity, based upon all the science and philosophy which Satan, disguised as an angel of light, can make use of for his hellish end of self-deification and antichristian hostility to Jehovah and His Anointed. Thus the "seat of the beast," ie., the throne of the Roman empire, will be where it has always been-in Rome. As Babylon was, first and last, the capital of the first empire of Daniel, so Rome is to be, first and last, the metropolis of the fourth. The metropolis of Chaldea never was the metropolis of the Roman empire; and it would require strong proof to make us believe in the transference of the fourth