unhistoric because miracles are incredible, being in the nature of things so impossible that no amount of evidence can prove them to have occurred; the observed uniformity of nature forbids them. The same learned gentlemen, with their exhaustive knowledge of the contents and potentialities of this mysterious, wondrous, and immeasurable universe, inform us that Bible prophecies must be rejected for the reason that they are miracles of foreknowledge, and therefore in the very nature of things impossible. For the purpose of giving Holy Scripture a momentary rest, it might be lawful to create a small diversion by asking these knowing rationalistic critics to employ their superhuman talents and keen implements for a while in deciding what shall be done with the indubitably authentic letter written in the middle of the last century by Sarah Pierpont, afterward the wife of the great Jonathan Edwards, in which she narrates a singular dream that she had about the time of the birth of the famous, or infamous, Aaron Burr. Is there anything in this dream which seems prophetic of the subsequent career of the infant then in arms? Can it be that this good woman received in the form of allegory a revelation of things to come? Was this a supernatural event, a miracle, or is it a natural power of the dreaming mind to foreknow future events? Is there a divine Spirit who has a way of giving intimations and revelations to the human spirit? Here is the letter as published in an old magazine :

STOCKBRIDGE, May 10, 1756. DEAR BROTHER JAMES: Your letters always do us good, and your last was one of your best. Have you heard of the birth of Esther's second child at Newark? It was born the 6th of February last, and its parents have named him Aaron Burr, Jr., after his father, the worthy president of the college. I trust the little immortal will grow up to be a good and useful man. But, somehow, a strange presentiment of evil has hung over my mind of late, and I can hardly rid myself of the impression that that child is born to see trouble.

You know I don't believe in dreams and visions; but lately I had a sad night of broken sleep, in which the future career of that boy seemed to pass before me. He first appeared as a little child, just beginning to ascend a high hill. Not long after he set out the two guides who started with him disappeared one after the other. He went on alone, and as the road was open and plain and as friends met him at every turn he got along very well. At times he took on the air. and bearing of a soldier, and then of a statesman, assuming to lead and control others. As he neared the top of the hill the way grew more steep and difficult, and his companions became alienated from him, refusing to help him or to be led by him. Baffled in his designs and angered at his ill-success, he began to lay about him with violence, leading some astray and pulling down others at every attempt to rise. Soon he himself began to slip and slide down the rough and

perilous sides of the hill, now regaining his foothold for a little, then losing it again, until at length he stumbled and fell headlong down, down, into a black and yawning gulf at the base.

At this I woke in distress, and was glad enough to find it was only a dream. Now, you may make as much or as little of this as you please. I think the disturbed state of our country, along with my own indifferent health, must have occasioned it. A letter from his mother, to-day, assures me that her little Aaron is a lively, prattlesome fellow, filling his parents' hearts with joy.

Your loving sister,

SARAH.

ITALIAN SORROWS.

THE difficulty of judging respecting the value of things contemporaneous is generally felt, though the feeling does not prevent the making of a full record of judgments upon current events and opinions. The feeling is that of sobered wisdom; the record is made by inexperienced enthusiasm. Every considerable event carries with it some unexpected sequences. We may know these sequences to be possible, but we are so much occupied with the first results of a change that the results farther away get no attention. In some cases this is well for us; the change may be a beneficent one, but we might not make it if we saw all the consequences. A good case to illustrate all this is the Italian revolution of 1859-70. Each step of that great march of Italy -from Solferino to the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Romewas witnessed by philanthropists abroad and Italians at home with gratification. The creation of an Italian nation and the abolition of the temporal power of the pope-giving the new nation its capital in the Rome of the Cæsars-furnished the lovers of progress one of several nineteenth century occasions for exultation. Nothing has happened to make us regret the triumph of liberal Italy. But much has happened which was not foreseen; had it been foreknown the chilling vision might have checked the ardor of the revolutionist and the joy of the philanthropist.

If the actors and spectators of that great drama had been able to read the journalism of 1893 and 1894 would the change have come which made Italy a nation? Perhaps not. The journalism would have shown brigandage in Sicily, riots in Carrara, deficits in the treasury, poverty everywhere, and national bankruptcy looming threateningly in the future. The philanthropic spectator sees the young nation humiliated and discouraged. He knows that the actors in this afterpiece are in their hearts weary of their

accomplished desire, or at least but languidly reciting their ritual of liberty and independence, while some are rehearsing litanies of despair. We need not share those melancholy emotions or distrust the final outcome of this historical performance. Nothing has happened which does not logically follow from the revolution. We have ourselves gone through as a people a similar experience. A decade after our emancipation from British rule our prospects were clouded by sectional controversies, by debts, by the languor of a diminished confidence in our ideals. We had a painful march to make toward our real unity and our national repose. The march did not really end until the emancipation of the slaves. The sense of security in our political institutions had none of its present strength when Webster made his immortal plea for the Union. Few of those who fought for deliverance from Great Britain lived long enough to outlive a fear that what they won was worth too little in comparison with its cost in blood and suffering. And yet not one trouble or pain came that might not have been foreseen as a necessary accompaniment of the toil of building the American colonies into a nation.

The dramatic entry of the King of Italy into Rome did not complete the unification of Italy; it began it. That which seemed the end only removed the obstacles long interposed between the people and their desired opportunity to rear aloft the temple of liberty; they began to build from that hour of triumph. They have builded, as men must always do, both wisely and unwisely. Their errors and failures were necessary, because they were only men. Perhaps another and happier future may commend them for the rare wisdom of preparing the minimum of sorrow. They did not, like our fathers, build on virgin soil. They inherited an old estate, discrepant in its powers as related to the demands upon it, disordered in management, and overgrown with every kind of weeds. Differences in dialects and in history made unity of blood and speech rather a possibility than a reality. A vast number of "improvements," such as railways, required wealth which did not exist. The vast majority of the people could not read, and the government had to become a schoolmaster. Besides, all history warned the Italians to beware of the men beyond the Alps, and to provide arms and soldiers for their own defense. All this, and vastly more, which an American can scarcely weigh, Italy has wisely and rapidly accomplished. If there be room for doubt, it must be whether it lay within the power of humanity to make a new, self-governed, and independent Italy out of the people

who in 1870 called themselves the Italian nation. If any wellgrounded fear exists that the nation will stumble and fall this fear must attach itself to the immense difficulties of the task which rose up to confront the man of 1870. It is not mistakes, not bad alliances, not bad financeering, not political antagonisms in the last quarter of a century, but the legacies of other centuries, making all these things inevitably a part of the new national life, which still weaken our hope of the political and social redemption of Italy. The burden of history is the weight upon Italian shoulders.

This is a load which nations must carry. It is a fond delusion that in an inspired moment a people may disburden themselves of all hateful things. They would need for that the power to die all at once and leave behind them a generation they had not reared into manhood. The brigandage of Sicily is as old as the exploits of Spartacus. No quarter of a century of free institutions will change the character and habits of a people-a character and habits stamped into their inmost being by centuries of despotism. We get now and again a glimpse of these habits when the Mafia embroil New Orleans or a murder in New York is traced into the black ooze of secret society bogs. Distrust of the next man, intrigue against the authority of law--these are not passions such as we experience. In Italy they run down into the roots of the manhood out of which the new nation must be built. So of every difficulty and failure in the well-beloved peninsula-the cause of it all lies back in the terrible past. The census of this last twenty-five years is a ground of hope; it is more, not less, than was to be expected. The sorrows of Italy as they confront us in the daily press are the sorrows of a people measurably successful in a vast undertaking. And they are less grievous to know than the voiceless sorrows of the ages whose legacy they are.

The future has a large investment in the new Italy. She is one of the historical glories of the age. We had doubtless underestimated the vastness, moral and social, of the enterprise. But the possibility of success is rather proved than disproved by events. If there be any new reason for doubt of the future it is that, though education is spreading, the moral rehabilitation of the people of southern Italy is still delayed. That work, the bracing of the moral character, is not to be expected from schools or polling booths. It is the work of sound religious training; and we are compelled to distrust the agencies officially or by historical right intrusted with the moral culture of the people.

JEWISH OBJECTIONS TO CHRISTIANITY.

JEWISH objections to the invitations of Christianity and to Christianity itself, as formulated in an editorial of the American Hebrew, under date of September 29, 1893, kindly criticising an article in the September-October number of the Methodist Review in which the questions, "Is Christianity progressing? Is Judaism progressing?" were discussed, are of critical, theoretical, and practical character. They are couched in terms of appreciative manliness, candor, and fairness, and also of scorching rebuke to certain workers whom it brands as a "hungry, sordid, and ignorant crowd of conversionists."

Into the merits of Jewish quarrel with the latter it is foreign to our purpose to enter. The Christianity of Christ, which we endeavor humbly to personify, has nothing of feeling, purpose, or method toward Jewish brethren that is inconsistent with profound respect for their intellect and learning, deference to their right of private judgment, and unselfish love for them as children. of our common Father, entitled, equally with ourselves, to all the blessings of his providence and grace. With any "manner of disseminating religious truth" discordant from this spirit no true follower of the great Teacher can have the least sympathy. Neither force, nor fraud, nor "profligate wretches," nor aught save the truth spoken in love should or can avail to effect Christian ends. "Degrading methods" constitute ground of just "practical objection" to spurious Christianity, but not to the Christianity of purity, love, and beneficence. While of one mind with the American Hebrew in repugnance to iniquity, howsoever manifested, we should be glad for that very reason to see all its coreligionists walking in fellowship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the only and true God.

The critical objection to Christianity that it "has not accomplished its ostensible mission," and, therefore, is not preferable to Judaism, is stated by the Menorah Monthly, June, 1893, in many forms. Among them is the sadly true assertion that "the Churches as organized bodies have preserved an ominous silence in those questions that affected the Christian standing. Can the Church approve a policy which denies refuge to the unfortunate exiles that are driven from house and home because of the faith that is in them-because of the faith which rests upon the same pillars upon which the Church rests, acknowledged to be of divine