After a residence of seven months in Italy, I am about to bid it farewell for a season. If the attractions of physical nature could command all of my attention, I might long linger to gaze upon these realms of loveliness. One might travel far over the earth before he finds a fairer clime. Here man dwells beneath an almost cloudless sky. The sun rarely hides his face in summer or winter; and when, at eventide, his golden glories fade behind the western hills, the silver stars shed a serene lustre over the blue vault of immensity. But the remembrance of the moral scenery amid which I have been moving will be more imperishably engraven on my spirit than all the brightness of the firmament, or the verdure of prairies enameled with ten thousand flowers. Amid the loveliness of nature, I found the soul of man like a wilderness. From the palace of the king to the lone cottage on the mountains, all was shrouded in spiritual darkness. Protestant and Papist looked upon each other as outcasts from the hopes of eternity, but regarded themselves as the favorites of heaven. And thus they had done from time immemorial.
The changing, ephemeral sectarianism of England and America, is in many respects unlike the sturdy superstition of this country. Here, Protestantism is not the offspring of boasted modern reformation; but may fairly dispute with Rome as to which is the oldest in apostasy. Every man holds a creed which has been transmitted from sire to son for a thousand years, whether he be Protestant or Catholic; and often he will lay his hand on his heart, and swear by the faith of his forefathers, that he will live and die as they have lived and died.
The Protestants from a very small minority. They have been harrassed for centuries by fierce attacks from powerful armies of Catholics. But after sanguinary persecutions, they have revived as the corn, and grown as the vine. Once, their last remnant was driven to Switzerland; but a courageous minister, assuming a military character, led them back, victoriously to their native valleys. The portrait of this hero bears the following inscription:
I preach and fight—I have a double commission, and these two contests occupy my soul. Zion is now to be rebuilt, and the sword is needed as well as the trowel.
The English government has several times interfered in their behalf, and large donations have been sent to them from various Protestant countries. Many a tribute of admiration has been paid them by men of ability from the leading sects of Protestantism, till their church has been flattered into immeasurable self-importance.
The following hymn expresses the feelings engendered by their romantic situation:
For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our fathers' God:
Thou hast made Thy children mighty
By the touch of the mountain sod.
Thou hast fixed our ark of refuge,
Where the spoiler's foot ne'er trod;
For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our fathers' God.We are watchers of a beacon,
Whose light must never die:
We are guardians of an altar,
'Midst the silence of the sky.
The rocks yield founts of courage,
Struck forth as by Thy rod;
For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our fathers' God.For the dark, resounding caverns,
Where Thy still, small voice is heard—
For the strong, tall pine of the forests,
That by Thy breath is stirred;
For the storm, on whose free pinions
Thy Spirit walks abroad;
For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our fathers' God.* * * * *
For the shadow of Thy presence
'Round our camp of rock outspread;
For the stern defiles of battle,
Bearing record of our dead:
For the snows and for the torrents,
For the free heart's burial sod:
For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our fathers' God.
Their self-esteem, combined with deep ignorance, present a formidable barrier to the progress of the Gospel. They have had so little intercourse with other parts of the earth—so little knowledge of anything beyond their own scenes of pastoral life, that it is difficult for them to contemplate the great principles of temporal and eternal salvation.
One long round of almost unremitting toil is the portion of both sexes. The woman who is venerable with gray hairs is seen laden with wood, or heavy baskets of manure, while traveling the rugged paths of the mountains. No drudgery here but must be shared by the delicate female frame. I have traveled far over the earth, from the confines of the torrid zone to the regions of eternal snow, but never before beheld a people with so many physical and mental derangements. But the hour of their deliverance draws nigh.
The constitution of this kingdom affords no guarantee that we shall ever enjoy the same religious privileges as our brethren in England and other countries.