PEEPS AT ROME-THE TIBER AND ST. PETER'S. THE river which you see in the engraving is the Tiber-the tawny Tiber, as it has been called, from the colour of its waters. The bridge across it is the Bridge of Angels. Four pairs of these angels you will be able to make out in the woodcut. They stand opposite each other on different sides of the bridge, and though they look small, they are very large in reality. You cannot go to St. Peter's without approaching it through this avenue of angels. And the idea of the Pope who had them sculptured and placed there, was that there should be a welcome from the heavenly host to all pilgrims on their way to visit the shrine of the great Apostle. It was rather a nice idea of the old Pope, but a welcome from a marble angel must be rather cold. Let us be thankful that we may enjoy the help of living angels, if we are walking as Christ walked. For it is written, Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them who shall be heirs of salvation?' The great round building on the right is the castle of Saint Angelo. It was originally built as a Mausoleum for the emperor Hadrian. It must have been a splendid tomb. It rose in three circular storeys, the one above the other; the basement storey being beautified all round with Doric, the second with Ionic, and the third with Corinthian columns. Thus it rose, gallery upon gallery, the whole being surmounted by a gilded dome. Here, in his tomb of Parian marble, Hadrian was buried; and here, for many years, the Roman emperors were laid to rest. It is a curious fate, that the place built for a quiet resting-place should have been turned into a castle, around which the roar of battle has been heard more than anywhere else in Rome. The explanation of it is that the basement storey had been built so strong, that it was easily converted into the huge round tower it now is, from which cannon peep at every hole. But I must tell you how it came to be called the Castle of Saint Angelo. As far back as the sixth century, there was a pestilence in the city of Rome. Pope Gregory the Great set out with a procession to offer up prayers at St. Peter's to stay the plague. On crossing the bridge he saw, or thought he saw, an angel standing on the summit of Hadrian's Mausoleum, and sheathing a bloody sword. Immediately he heard angels around him 42 THE TIBER AND ST. PETER'S. chanting a beautiful chant. On this he joined in the chant, saying, 'Pray God for us: Allelujah.' Such is the vision Pope Gregory saw, or thought he saw. From this event the Mausoleum of Hadrian came to be called San Angelo; and by and by an angel in marble occupied the place where the Pope saw the angel in his vision. It is a bronze angel, with great outstretched wings, that occupies its place now, and keeps up the old name. And nothing can be more striking than the appearance it presents when seen in the light of the setting sun. So glorious does it become, that it looks almost as if it might be some angel come down from heaven to earth. One of the names given to Jesus in the Old Testament is, The Angel of the Covenant; and, in the book of the Revelations, He is the Angel with the Censer, and much incense which He offers with the prayers of saints. And so I turned from the Angel of San Angelo to the Angel of the Covenant, the Angel of the Censer. We are wrong in asking the angels to pray for us, but not in asking this Angel. He can stop every plague. He can heal every heart. He can pray God for us, for He ever liveth to make intercession. A little to the left of San Angelo you see a huge, unshapely pile of buildings. This is the Vatican, the place where the Popes live, and where the great treasures of painting and sculpture and learning are to be found. It may give you some idea of the size of the Vatican when I tell you that it has eight grand staircases, twenty courts, and eleven thousand chambers. What a number of chambers! you say. Yes, and we may add, how beautiful. Time would fail to tell you about the paintings, the sculpture, the library, and the Sistine chapel. There is only one bigger and more beautiful house that I know of. I hope, dear children, you will all one day live in it, whether you should ever see the Vatican or not. You know the house I refer to. 'In My Father's house are many mansions.' That is a house we cannot go to see without living in it for ever. May we be of those whom Christ will one day welcome to it. The other building in the engraving with the great dome is St. Peter's. St. Peter's is the largest church in the world. On either side of a great square two semicircular rows of columns, three or four deep, lead up to the great building. We preferred walking right up the centre of the square. We stood there a long time looking on the beautiful Corinthian columns, and the lofty balustrade, with Christ and the twelve apostles sculptured in marble. By and by we ascended the flight of steps that leads up to the entrance. Waiting for a while in the vast portico, at last we pushed the curtain aside and, stepping within, beheld the great cathedral. Slowly we wandered up the central aisle. By and by, to the right, we saw an old bronze statue, very ancient and curious-looking. A blind woman was feeling about for it. At last her hand caught the figure, and, running her fingers along the outline of the statue, she was very soon pouring her kisses on the toe of St. Peter. Returning tɔ the central aisle, we passed on till we came to the spot beneath the lofty dome, which marks the supposed burial-place of St. Peter. This is the great shrine of Catholic devotion. We leaned on the marble wall which marks it off from the rest of the nave. We looked down to the shrine, before which eighty-six golden lamps are always burning. We saw a kneeling statue of Pius VI., and, not far from it, a cardinal praying before the shrine, his black beaver with its little red cord around it lying on the marble pavement. He looked almost as still as the marble pope beside him. Tired of looking down, we looked up, and there was the lofty dome overhead, and the pure light coming direct from heaven. And I thought to myself, we do not need to bow ourselves away down there in a dark place, lighted though it be by golden lamps, in order to make God hear us. us look up. Let us receive the light from heaven-the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus. Let us look, not down to Peter's tomb, but up to Jesus' intercession throne. A. G. F. Let STORIES OF THE HUGUENOTS. HENRY OF NAVARRE. 'Now glory to His holy name from whom all glories are, And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre.' PERHAPS you know these lines, and that fine ballad of Lord Macaulay's from which they are taken. Perhaps you will read them with still more interest when you have heard the changeful story of that brave King Henry's life, and learn what he was to the French Protestants, and all he did for them. Henry was born at Bearn in the year 1553, and was brought up at the court of his grandfather, who then was king of Navarre. For his father had died while Henry was still a very little child, and his mother, Jeanne d'Albret, a good princess and a Protestant, had sole charge of his youth. Henry's tutors were learned Protestants; he himself was hardy and bold, and trained to all knightly virtues among his native Bernais mountains. Navarre is full of mountains. Although once a kingdom, it is now but a province of Spain, with wild passes and high forests, where the bears and the wolves still range. When Henry was sixteen years old, his mother heard of a plot which was formed to carry the young prince from her, to take him into Spain, and make him a Catholic. She did not wait; she took the young prince with her, and fled in haste to La Rochelle. At La Rochelle the armies of Jeanne the Huguenots were gathered. d'Albret led Prince Henry to them, and presented him as their leader. 'And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters, As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold and stiff and still are they that wrought thy walls annoy.' This could not yet be sung of Rochelle. Its enemies were still strong. But the Huguenots had got a new power with their brave young prince, Henry. He was too young to command. Coligny, the tried soldier, led the Protestant army to battle. But the prince was with him—full of hope and well-beloved. The Huguenots met many defeats; and yet through all defeat it seemed that their cause prospered. The peace of St. Germain, which was made soon, was full of advantage to the Protestants. Immediately after this peace a marriage was arranged between Henry of Navarre and Margaret of Valois, the sister of the king of France. The marriage was celebrated on the 18th August, 1572; and within a week of that time the fearful massacre of St. Bartholemew took place. It was said the marriage was but a scheme of the wicked queen of France, Catherine de Medici, that all the principal Protestants of the country might be gathered into Paris, and massacred on that one night. At midnight a bell from the palace tower gave the signal for the dreadful work to begin. Paris was full of Huguenots, they had come from all parts, from their vineyards and their little towns, to do honour to their beloved prince. And all their leaders were there-all the great men among them, sleeping securely and peacefully, the guests of the people of Paris. The midnight bell tolled, and suddenly the Catholics attacked the Protestants. There was no hope. The king himself fired from his palace windows on those who were fleeing past. The king of Navarre only saved his life by going to mass, and pretending that he had now conformed to the Catholic church. over France the example of Paris was followed, and thousands on thousands of peaceful Huguenots were slain. But the pope celebrated the massacre as a glory to God and the church, and appointed a grand Te Deum to be sung in the church of St. Louis. All Henry of Navarre became a Catholic, and remained for three years a prisoner at the French court. In 1576 he escaped to the Huguenots, and became a Protestant again. In 1593, to win the throne of France, he once more professed himself a Catholic with great pomp at St. Denis. A GIRLS' LIVES. Catholic from this time Henry Fourth remained, but he still shielded the Protestants as they never were shielded before. In April, 1598, Henry published an edict at Nantes, proclaiming the Protestants free to worship according to their own faith. They might build new churches wherever they pleased, Paris alone excepted; they were allowed to establish universities of their own; all the offices and dignities of the kingdom were open to them. This was secured to them by Henry in the famous Edict of Nantes. H. W. H. W. 45 GIVING OUR HEARTS TO CHRIST. THEY first gave their ownselves unto the Lord.'2 Cor. viii. 5. A LESSON from these Saints of old Comes fresh to us to-day, To teach us, old and young, how wo Away to Jesus, that dear Lord, Who loves us, O so well, That none can know its depths and heights-- It tells us we are Christ's by right, It tells us of Christ's bitter grief Then of His death upon the cross, In bitter agony. Dear, loving Lord, we bring Thee now What Thou hast bought with pain; O may we never, never wish To take it back again. O make us Temples filled with Thee- Dear Lord, a poor unworthy heart But, Lord, Thou dost forgive. M. A. LISTON FOULIS. GIRLS' LIVES. I ONCE stayed for awhile in a Girls' Refuge. There were many bright little ones around me, whose eyes looked into mine with confidence and love. There was nothing to distinguish them from 'mothers' darlings' anywhere; but behind their happy present lay a past which-if realised by Christians-would surely call forth marvellously increased effort to reach the young and destitute. Jessie was an intelligent-looking girl of about fourteen. Her fair hair was neatly smoothed, and her dress plain and tidy. She was an intelligent pupil, and easily managed. Yet, only a few months before, Jessie and her two brothers might have been seen singing on the street, thus earning bread by dint of dreary days of exposure, often meeting with harsh cruel words. In some way she was separated from her brothers before they were received into the Refuge. The hearts of the poor are not less loving than those of the wealthy. These boys undertook a long journey on foot to find their sister, that she might share the comforts which kind friends had given them. The boys and Jessie have now pleasant homes in Canada, where-if honest and industrious-they are sure to do well. Jessie left us some sayings, which cheered many of her teachers, fulfilling Christ's word that the things of the kingdom are |