you are all unprofitable servants; go home without supper and without wages."—" He did not know what might have been the consequence of this new doctrine, for it had done a great deal of mischief at Lausanne. But the Sardinian government hearing what was going on, and that the Vaudois were transgressing the law that no stranger should be allowed to preach in the churches or in private houses, sent down strict orders for enforcing this regulation." I asked, what were the sentiments of the Vaudois in general respecting the Trinity and the Deity of Christ. He said "the question was not discussed either in the pulpit or in families; their ministers did not at all encourage them to perplex themselves with these matters, but taught them to worship God and imitate Christ's example, and attend to their work. What others thought he could not say, but for his own part he thought there could be but one God, but that Jesus Christ was called God, selon le spirituel. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and that caused him to be called God," &c.

During the first four days I was at La Tour, the Moderator M. Bert, for whom I was the bearer of a letter from one of the Professors at Geneva, was absent at Turin, whither he and Madame B. had accompanied the British Ambassador, Mr. Foster and lady, on their return to the capital, after a visit of a few days to the Valleys. The Protestant Ambassadors at Turin, but particularly the British and Prussian, are very attentive to the interests of the Vaudois. They always call the latter "our good friend the Count Truchsess." He frequently remits large sums for their various institutions, which, from the poverty of the people, depend almost exclusively on foreign assistance. The weather being remarkably fine on these days, I was charmed, even beyond my expectation, with the romantic scenery of these wild retreats, rendered doubly interesting to every contemplative mind by their being the spot "which the Lord had chosen to preserve his sanctuary," to use old Leger's expression," and which to this intent he had marvellously fortified by the hand of nature." Let it not be deemed an unseasonable digression by the readers of the Monthly Repository, a work whose principal design is the development of moral and religious truth, as conveyed through the medium of Divine Revelation, if I call off their attention for a few moments to one of the grandest scenes which nature presents, the setting sun among the Alps! Never can I lose the impression of the rapture with which I gazed on this sight on the hill just above the smiling village of La Tour. I stood in the midst of the ruins of the ancient fortress which gave this village its name of the tower, and was for centuries the terror of the poor persecuted Waldenses. To the East, in the direction of Piedmont, far as the eye could stretch, (and there was field enough for it to stretch until it ached,) nothing was to be seen but exuberant fertility. The plain surface was uninterrupted by any eminence except a single one, directly opposite the opening of the valley of Lucerna, seemingly placed there to keep guard over the abodes of valour and pure religion. At five o'clock in the afternoon, this mountain, Mount Cavour, still retained the yellow beams of the setting sun, of the same lamp of day, indeed, which I had often admired in the soft English landscape, but now kindled into an intensity of blaze and purity of lustre which Italy alone can display. I had often enjoyed the serenity of evening, but now a deeper calm descended into the spirit in proportion as the silence was more profound, and the air unagitated by the slightest breath of wind. When the storms which sweep across our island from one ocean to the other had ceased, I had often been delighted with the clearness of the atmosphere and the unimpeded view of distant

objects which it afforded; but now the sight seemed a new faculty, so greatly was its sphere extended without a single perceptible wreath of vapour to obscure the outline, and mingle and confound the forms of the objects of its perception. But the scene soon changed; the whole plain assumed a dark and nightlike appearance, and the single isolated Mount lost the last rays of the declining sun. Not so, however, the loftier and more distant Alps. The curtain had not yet fallen; another and more splendid scene was yet to be witnessed. I stood in the midst of an amphitheatre of mountains, whose gigantic forms stood wrapped in the mantle of night, all except their aspiring heads, which, crowned with the snows of ages, still reflected from one to the other the parting beams of the sun, changing from a golden to a crimson hue. From the want of twilight in this Southern latitude, and from the great height at which the sun is seen in mountainous countries illuminating the superior regions, while the inferior are involved in deep shades, the scene before me assumed somewhat of the appearance of a brilliant illumination in the upper chambers of a lofty palace, while night was reigning undisturbed below. (Where comparisons fail, the mind resorts to any which have a single circumstance of resemblance.) Some unseen hand passed from apartment to apartment, extinguishing one light after another until the empire of darkness was universal. So it is in nature. But the Almighty would not have it to be so in his great spiritual building. When one light was extinguished after another, until the darkness became palpable, in a solitary watch-tower a feeble glimmering flame was still preserved, by means of which, when the time was come, a blaze of light might again be kindled in every portion of his house. This tower was repeatedly assailed by those who "hated the light because their deeds were evil," in the hope of extinguishing it in the blood of his watchmen by whom it was guarded. But although their efforts appeared at one time to be on the eve of success, yet the enemies of the light were finally compelled to retire in discomfiture, and to acknowledge that if this flame were not of celestial origin, it was at least unquenchable by any human means. To see how this watchfire was burning, and with what care its flame was tended and cherished, was the object of my visit to this secluded spot. And I am now to give an account of the state in which I found it.

On Sunday, Oct. 15th, I paid my first visit to the parish church of La Tour. It stands in a remote, retired situation, a mile and a half from the village, in the midst of a grove of chesnut trees, and with little beyond it but the pathless mountains, a situation which was, no doubt, selected for the same reason which induced our persecuted Presbyterian ancestors to build their chapels in the most retired streets and alleys, that the house of God might not become the first object of fanatic rage. This church is capable of containing about one thousand four hundred persons and was well filled. It is the only church among the Waldenses which possesses an organ. It was deemed by many too great an innovation on the ancient simplicity of their worship, and it now remains silent. Indeed, there is a studied plainness both within and without. The service, which was entirely in the French language, commenced with the reading of three or four chapters out of Ostervald's Bible, accompanied with the practical reflections of that eminent Swiss divine, which are in general plain and good. This part of the service was performed by the clerk as we should call him, but the Vaudois call him the régent, i. e. schoolmaster, the office of reader being connected with that of master of the central school of the parish. His place was at a little bookstand in front of the small deal table which is used for the Lord's

Supper, immediately under the pulpit and opposite to the bench of elders, who with their ten grey heads soon made their appearance. But during the reading of these chapters, the great body of the congregation waited at the door for the arrival of the pastor, and after having taken off their hats as he passed, and received his friendly but grave salutation in return, all took their places. The pastor appeared about fifty years of age, and his hair was turning grey with the mountain air. His countenance expressed great firmness and decision of character, but his address was mild and paternal. During the early part of the service, a man entered the church, almost covered with a long pink coloured robe of rich silk, evidently a relic of former times, finely embroidered with silver lace and flowers. It floated in ample folds to his feet, but seemed to conceal something which he was bearing in his arms. Two women followed, and the party made a reverence to the minister, and placed themselves in front of the pulpit. It did not immediately occur to me what this could mean, but the minister soon rose and said, "You desire that this child should be baptized?" The use of this rather showy robe is probably one of those ancient customs which every one follows without considering why. The minister read a short, simple and interesting service for baptism, out of the Geneva Liturgy, and coming down into the aisle, inquired the intended name of the child. The robe was turned aside and discovered a very young infant in a sort of portable bed in the arms of its father. The woman next him produced a small phial, and poured the whole of the water it contained into the palm of the minister's hand, who baptized the child in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. He afterwards returned to the pulpit and read the Geneva Morning Service. In this and in every part of the Liturgy I have heard read, there are no traces of the peculiar doctrines of any sect, but the Father alone is worshiped in a style of great simplicity and devotion. The reading of the Liturgy was preceded and followed by the singing of a psalm, and then succeeded an extempore prayer from the minister, which was addressed with sublimity and fervour to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and entirely free from the peculiar phraseology of orthodoxy. He then pronounced his text, Deut. xxvi. 11, Tu te réjouiras de toutes les bonnes choses que le Seigneur t'a donné, tu et le Lévite, et l'étranger qui est avec toi." Thou shalt rejoice in all the good things which the Lord hath given thee, thou and the Levite, and the stranger that is with thee." He then began his address in the affectionate manner always employed by the Waldenses: "Chrétiens, mes très aimés frères en Jésus-Christ notre Seigneur !" Christians, my dearly beloved brethren in Christ Jesus our Lord!" The occasion of the discourse was the conclusion of the vintage among the Vaudois, which he touched on with great simplicity and pathos. He met an objection in the outset. "Some of you, my friends, will say, It is for those to whom the Lord has given the good things to rejoice, and not for me who have no land belonging to me to till, and no grapes to gather in. But you will observe in my text, that you are all included in the invitation, thou, and the Levite, and the stranger that is with thee.' Though these last had no vineyards, they shared in the abundance of others, and so will you; and were it not so, can you not rejoice in the goodness of God to your brethren? Enjoy, then, this new gift of Divine Providence, but, au nom de Dieu gardez vous de l' intempérance,' In the name of God keep from intemperance. The fruits of the vine are given you, to strengthen and cheer and enable you to support your labours in the field, and not that you might divest yourselves of reason by abusing them." The crop of

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grapes had this year been of inferior quality, and somewhat less abundant than usual. To this circumstance he alluded in the concluding part of his discourse, where he observed, " In years in which your crops are less abundant and productive, you have still sufficient reason to bless God for giving you more than you deserve: you are also bound to call in mind the abundance of former years, when your store-houses overflowed; and even in a total failure of your hopes of earthly good things, your warmest praises are due to your Heavenly Father for him whom he sent into the world to proclaim the pardon of sin, our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, leaving us an example that we should follow his steps." The service concluded with intercessory prayers, and, last of all, the reciting of "the Apostles' Creed," which may be considered as the creed of the Waldenses.

On what ground the Waldensian Church has been so generally represented as resembling the Established Church of England I cannot imagine. I had been only five days amongst them when I had discovered the following points of difference, most of them of essential importance. 1. It is obvious to remark, that the Vaudois Church is not in subjection to any civil power except against its consent. 2. They have no hierarchy of archbishops, bishops, priests, &c. So much for the constitution of the two churches. 3. They have no uniform ritual, or Book of Common Prayer for public worship, or the administration of ceremonies, the Liturgy of Geneva being employed in some churches, those of Basle, Lausanne and Neuchatel in others. 4. They use none of the forms and ceremonies and dresses which peculiarly characterize the Church of England; they do not use the cross as any thing sacred, either in the forms of their temples or in the baptism of infants; they do not bow when the name of Jesus is mentioned; they have no altars, and receive the Lord's Supper in a sitting posture. Such is the difference between the two churches in ritual. 5. The Vaudois have in their worship no distinctive creed, in the usual acceptation of the term. They content themselves with that of "the Apostles," which is in general use in the Church of England and in other Christian churches, but in them is united with the distinctive form of belief of each separate church. Whereas the Vaudois employ only this very ancient symbol, which contains none of those metaphysical distinctions, and dogmatical assertions of disputable propositions, and damnation of heretics, which go to the making up of what is called a creed. 6. The Vaudois address all their public worship to the Father alone. So much for their difference in doctrine.

IN a private letter received from a valued correspondent respecting my communication on the Hebrew Vowel points, in your Number for February last, (p. 81,) whilst he expresses himself favourable to the view I have taken of the subject, he wonders at my speaking with hesitation of being a vowel, and still more at my omitting y. This last, he says, by its place in the alphabet; by Origen's having constantly expressed it by a vowel; and by the want of a vowel o in the language, as well as by many words derived from the Hebrew, in which this letter is represented by o or some similar

vowel, seems to be decisively proved to be a vowel. Permit me, Sir, to explain the reasons which at present induce me to differ from my correspondent. 1st. With respect to the position of y ain, in the alphabet, it must be admitted that it corresponds with O omicron, in Greek, and the languages derived from it. In like manner He corresponds with E epsilon, and Hheth with H eta; and if I recollect right, for I have not the work to refer to, Masclef, on this ground, contends that is a vowel. But though H was latterly the representative of a Greek vowel, it was not so at an early period; and whilst it represented an aspirate, before the invention of a comma for that purpose, it was adopted by the Latins, and has been retained as an aspirate in the languages derived from the Latin, though its sound is very frequently neglected. When it ceased to be used as an aspirate in Greek, the character was adopted to represent long e, and may not the place of another neglected aspirate or guttéral have been taken for o in like manner? In the Arabic and Syriac languages, which are spoken to this day, the letters corresponding to n, and y, which may be ascertained by their numerical value, as well as by other circumstances, are aspirated consonants and not vowels. This is the case also in the Rabbinical dialect, which, however corrupted, is derived from the Hebrew, nor is there any ground whatever from Origen, or any other source, for attaching to these characters any uniform, or indeed similar, vowel sound. The position of the letters and y, therefore, is not, I conceive, in itself a sufficient reason for considering them vowels. 2d. With respect to Origen, the only part of his representation of Hebrew in Greek characters which I have had an opportunity of examining is the quotation in Dr. Wilson's Hebrew Grammar, from which it appears that ain occurs eleven times in it, and is represented by alpha nine times, and by epsilon twice. But as these are the sounds of the vowel points which accompany ain, it is begging the question to say that Origen considered it as a vowel. In the Greek translation of the Seventy ain is represented in proper names by a much greater variety of sounds, which usually correspond with those denoted by the vowel points; and it is also sometimes represented by the palatines g or k, which is a natural change, considering it as a gutteral. 3d. Origen, in the passage referred to, denotes ain by a nine times out of eleven, and not once by o, the sound of the corresponding letter in Greek, and the sound, the want of which, it is urged, should be supplied.

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The Jews, who may be considered as at least as likely to know the language of their ancestors, as any other persons, consider i vau as the representative of o, not ; and with respect to derivations, I believe that on examination they will be found to add little to the argument in favour of y's claim to the rank of a vowel. Dr. Wilson adduces as an example, “idw, video, root yido, to know." Now the w of ow is not radical, but merely a termination of the first person, probably derived from the pronoun yw, whilst is a radical part of the Hebrew word. Besides, now and eldew seem to be creatures of the imagination, deduced by analogy from do and da, the former of which is only used in the sense of seeing, and the latter of knowing. If we deem the word of Hebrew origin, we certainly can draw no inference from it respecting the sound of y. When Ty oden is given as the root of on, it would rather shew that ain was sounded e; and as it is pointed Eden, and is aspirated in the Greek, this derivation is rather against what it is brought to prove. y Obed, he laboured, he served, as the root of obedio, seems at first sight more plausible; but Parkhurst, and his follower Wilson, in their zeal to trace such derivations, forget that obedio is certainly a compound word, formed from the preposition ob and audio, the origin of