be pronounced by Gibbon “premature and ineffectual;” but the Captain of salvation and his heroic followers, will give a different verdict.  These noble confessors and martyrs, under the conduct of Michael our prince, began the struggle with the dragon, although the war did not come to its height till the early part of the 16th century.  Then it was that “Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels.”  Both parties became more visible in the symbolic heaven before the eyes of all Christendom.  Michael, (who is like God?) is the well known description of Jesus Christ. (Phil. ii. 6; Heb. i. 3.) To Daniel, while contemplating this same contest, he was made known as the “great Prince, that standeth for the children of God’s people,” and long before Daniel’s time, had “contended with the devil.” (Jude v. 9.) “Christ and Belial” are therefore the two opposing leaders of the armies.  In other words, Christ mystical and the devil incarnate are the belligerents; and we know that “greater is he that is in the saints, than he that is in the world.” (1 John iv. 4.) The result of the war is not doubtful.  The whole power of Rome, civil and ecclesiastical,—­emperors, kings, princes, pope, cardinals and prelates, were baffled; and this too, whether in the use of the sword of the Spirit,—­polemic theses,—­or of the material sword, in literal warfare.  When the Lord Jesus “mustered the hosts to the battle,” he furnished them “with the whole armour of God to stand in the evil way.”  When Zuingle, Luther, Calvin, Knox, their compeers and successors, were obliged to wrestle with the hosts of Antichrist,—­“against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places,” (wicked spirits in heavenly places,) they found it both lawful and necessary,—­“having no sword, to buy one.” (Luke xxii. 36.)

The dragon and his angels were defeated and routed,—­“They prevailed not,—­he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.”  The thunders of the Vatican thenceforth lost their wonted power to terrify.  Ever since, they are but brutum fulmen,—­vox, et praeterea nihel,—­harmless thunder,—­unmeaning voice.  Papal curses, though annually launched against all heretics, tend only to amuse the popular mind, not to reach or disturb the individual conscience.  For centuries the dragon has been unable to rouse any one horn of the beast to deeds of blood.

It is usual for the victors to give outward expression to their joy.  “The voice of them that shout for mastery,” has been heard since the days of Moses. (Exod. xxxii. 18.) Accordingly, these conquerors congratulate one another on their recent victory, but their joy terminates on the proper object.  The “kingdom of their God and the power of his Christ” constitute their theme.  His right hand and his holy arm have gotten him the victory.  The devil accused Job before God.  His accusations in that