Pope. The oppressions which his father had practised upon this spirited people, and his own humiliating treatment of them, had roused them to a formidable opposition. In the beginning of 1073 they had mustered a large army, and were actually holding the Emperor besieged in the Castle of Hartzburg. Escaping from them with difficulty, all his energies were directed toward equipping an army by which he might subdue and punish them. After a bloody war of two years, in which he sustained many defeats and signed one humiliating treaty, he succeeded in his attempt. The Saxons submitted; their leaders were imprisoned; their estates forfeited, and their resources destroyed. It was just after the termination of this war, and when he was flushed with victory, that Henry first came in serious conflict with the Pope. Before this time he seems to have dreaded the papal power, and to have yielded to the demands of Gregory. He allowed the papal Legate to hold a synod in his realm; to depose and excommunicate; to appoint to ecclesiastical dignities, without consulting him. He had even agreed to assist the Pope in executing throughout his dominions the decree concerning simony and concubinage.

The reason most apparent for his acquiescence is, that he could not afford to make the Pope his enemy at a time when his own throne was in danger. Another reason may have been the influence of his mother, Agnes, who was warmly devoted to the cause of Gregory, and had even gone on an embassy to her son from the Pope. But still another is to be found in the honest dread which Henry felt against engaging in a conflict with such a character as Gregory. He knew of him, and well might fear him. The allegiance of his great Barons always was doubtful, and with such an enemy to contend against, they might desert him at any moment. But at the close of the Saxon war things were greatly changed. His success had tended to restore to him the affections of his subjects, which his vices had alienated. He had learned for the first time to trust himself, and he had seen the great lords of the empire following his banner with enthusiasm. He now began to feel that he was firmly established on the throne, and that he might give way to the promptings of his haughty temper without fear of consequences.

Gregory, too, had not been idle. He had kept himself in almost constant communication with Henry, and allowed not a movement to be made in the Empire without his knowing and profiting by it. The great blow had yet to be struck; the Church was not as yet

independent; and though the consequences of another decree might be the converting of Henry from an ally into an enemy, still there must be no shrinking. A grand synod was held at Rome in February, 1075, the most important in Gregory's pontificate. The decree against Lay Investiture was then passed, and all privileges which had heretofore belonged to temporal sovereigns, relative to the promotion of the clergy within their realms, was transferred to the Pope. By this act he became the most powerful and absolute of potentates. It could not be expected that Henry would relinquish his former rights over the temporalities of his bishops; or could not but perceive whither power was tending, and for what purposes.

A letter from the Pope during the ensuing year, charging him, and justly, with having broken his former promises relative to the suppression of simony and concubinage, with leading a scandalous life, and demeaning himself in a manner unbecoming a Christian sovereign, widened the breach between them. When, soon after this, a summons reached Henry, citing him to appear at Rome and answer in person to charges which had been preferred against him, his indignation knew no bounds; he sent back a haughty defiance, and at once took measures for his own defence and for the deposition of Gregory. From this time began hostilities, implacable and mortal, hostilities which ended not with the lives of Henry or Hildebrand, but continued on through many long years, until the true position of the Church as a power on earth was duly recognized. We have not time, if we had the inclination, to trace in its more important features the contest between Gregory and the Emperor. As one of the few most important events in human history, it will ever command the attention and reward the zeal of the student. For our own part we may say, that we cannot reflect upon those stormy years of the history of the Church, without feeling an admiration, and even a love for the memory of her great Champion.

but

Whether in triumph or defeat, he displays those morally sublime qualities to which we cannot wholly be indifferent. Call him ambitious, tyrannical, overbearing! All this he was, undoubtedly, he was much more. Grant, even, as we are willing to do, that in his Pontificate he was guilty of acts which more resembled crimes than errors; still, as of all men so of him, can I plead human imperfection. The best of us will go wrong at times, and Gregory was not one of the best, but one of the greatest of men. If it be found, on careful study, that he did mankind more harm than good, — that Christianity

But if,

suffered at his hands, then either condemn or forget him. on the contrary, his name must be enrolled as among the very few whose lives of toil and suffering have made the world what it is, whose labors have erected this proud fabric of ours which we call civilization, then let us remember and love him for that; and if there be shadows to the picture, let them be dwelt upon in sorrow, not in anger, for who among us is free from blame?

The contest between Gregory and the Empire finally ended in his defeat, but by no means in the defeat of his principles. Driven at last from the Holy City, and compelled to take refuge in the fortress of Salerno, he still kept watch over the welfare of the Church. From his solitary retreat he still launched excommunications against her enemies, excommunications which in later years were found to have a terrible meaning. He still spoke words of comfort and encouragement to his devoted followers; he spoke with the same undoubting confidence of the goodness of his cause as in the day of his highest prosperity; and he dwelt with calm assurance upon the reward which Heaven had in store for him. And that reward was near at hand. Hildebrand was soon to appear before that tribunal where no misinterpretation could be put upon his acts; where hypocrisy could not avail; where the true soldier and apostle of Christ would not be confounded with the artful demagogue. As his eyes closed in their last slumber, he faintly murmured: "I have loved justice and hated iniquity, therefore I die in exile." "Die in exile," said a devout attendant, "thou canst not die in Christ and his Holy Apostles, the nations have been given unto thee for an inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a possession."

exile. Vicar of

NEW BOOKS.

Ravenshoe. By HENRY KINGSLEY. Boston: Ticknor and Fields. 1862.

IT seldom happens that two members of a family distinguish themselves in the same department of literature. The Bronté family, however, present a striking exception to this rule,—all of the sisters followed the same path that Charlotte Bronté first ventured on alone and unaided, until they gained a reputation which time cannot efface. They obtained this success only by persevering industry and an indomitable will, which enabled them to battle with, and at last to overcome, obstacles which would have daunted most young aspirants for fame.

The two Kingsleys bid fair to form another exception to this rule. Charles Kingsley has already established a reputation which is world wide. None have read without pleasure his "Hypatia" and "Amyas Leigh"; and a younger brother, Henry, now rivals, or, as some critics maintain, surpasses his brother in ability.

Those who are familiar with the novels of Charles Kingsley will miss in those of his brother the beautiful language in which all his ideas are expressed, and which have caused his books to be read, not only as mere novels, but as models of English prose. He was able to express in a few words an idea that others could but imperfectly develop in two or three sentences. In Henry Kingsley's novels this command of language is wanting; but its place is supplied by a plain, straightforward, honest style; each sentence carries conviction with it. There are not many very striking passages, but very many suggestive ones. He himself says, after a passage of great beauty, "I have made these few remarks (I have made very few in this book, for I want to suggest thought, not to supply it ready-made),” etc. In this story there is none of that sarcasm which lurks concealed in almost every sentence in Thackeray's novels, which often makes the perusal of his works unpleasant; for we can hardly help, while reading any of his novels, "Vanity Fair," for instance, trying to conjure up among the persons whom we have met, a Becky Sharp or an Amelia Sedley. These two characters well represent the extremes in woman's character, — the one sharp (no other word can better express her character) and bitterly sarcastic and wicked, yet possessing a strange fascination in her face and conversation which few can withstand, so enlists our sympathies, that when anything happens which gives her any advantage we involuntarily draw a sigh of relief, which is instantly checked by a strong moral effort. In strong contrast with her is Amelia Sedley, — mild, dotingly fond of George Osborne, gentle and forgiving, and yet lacking sufficient force of character to 'interest us.

The characters in "Ravenshoe" are all well conceived and well de

veloped, and although many actors are often on the stage in the same scene, the individuality of each one is never lost for a moment. Charles Ravenshoe is always the same noble, impetuous man, undaunted by misfortune, whether we see him in his college career, or in the ancient halls of Ravenshoe Castle, or in that deadly charge of the "six hundred." The plot is rather too complex, and the important events follow each other with a startling rapidity, but the interest of the reader is never allowed to flag in the least degree.

The book is published by Ticknor and Fields in their best style. A few such books as this will soon make the distinction between English and American books a mere verbal one.

COLLEGE RECORD.

STATISTICS OF THE CLASS OF 1862.

THE Class began in September, 1858, with 109 members. The largest number ever in the Class at one time was 112, at the beginning of the Sophomore year, 19 persons having joined, and 16 having left the Class. At the beginning of the Junior year the number was 101, 2 having rejoined, and 13 left. At the beginning of the Senior year the number was 95, 2 having rejoined, and 8 left. During the Senior year, 5 have left the Class, leaving 90 who expect degrees.

The whole number ever connected with the Class is 128. Of the 38 who have left, 2 have died, Lewis Tillman Carter, at Troy, N. Y., May 16, 1859, and Francis Lowell Gardner, of Boston, at Cotuit Port, Marshpee, Feb. 10, 1861. 7 have entered the army, 6 have joined '63, 1 has joined '64, 3 living in the South have gone home, 1 is studying law, and 18 are scattered in different places, most of them engaged in business.

18 of the Class live in Boston, 8 in Cambridge, 44 in other parts of Massachusetts, 5 in Maine, 2 each in New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland, and Missouri, 1 each in Vermont, New York, Wisconsin, North Carolina, and Kentucky. Live in Massachusetts, 70; elsewhere, 20. The birthplaces of 86 have been obtained, viz.: in Boston 28, Cambridge 6, other parts of Massachusetts 31, Maine 4, New York, 3, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Maryland, and Missouri 2 each, Vermont, Ohio, Alabama, and New Brunswick, 1 each. Born in Massachusetts, 65; elsewhere, 21.

For the sake of comparison, the statistics of three Classes have been brought together in the following table: