in this, there followed a scene, a more detestable and dastardly one the sun never shone upon. When the sailors had finally satiated their brutal lusts upon the innocent and helpless, and faint from terror and torture, and when the still surviving victims had been made to cleanse the ships from every trace of the blood of their friends and kin, they were seized and dropped into the ocean without a pang of conscience, and as unconcernedly as if the great God had created Jews for no other purpose but to appease the beastly appetites of inhuman sailors, and serve as food for the fishes of the sea. And all this for the glory of Christianity! All this in obedience to the teachings of the Church! Heaven! Who can name the crimes that have been perpetrated in Thy name? What seas of human blood have been shed in the name of Christ, of Mercy and Love and Peace and Good Will! The Church had steeled the heart against every sentiment of pity and mercy. Feelings of compunction of remorse in the perpetration of crimes against the Jews, were taught to be the crime, and not the crime itself. The tear of sympathy wrung out by the sight of Jewish suffering was taught to to be an offense to be expiated by humiliating penance. Any one, it was taught, might conscientiously kill a Jew wherever he had an opportunity. The taste of blood, once gratified, begat a cannibal appetite in the people, and the more it was satisfied the more intense became its thirst for blood. Their zeal was not altogether unselfish; every Jew accused of heresy, or killed, cancelled--so the Church taught for the accuser one hundred days from his future purgatory punishment. Another captain was somewhat more merciful; whether he had to expiate some of his tenderheartness by humiliating penance, ecclesiastical history has neglected to record. He set all his exiles on the shore upon a desert coast, leaving the weak and the suffering pitilessly a prey to wild beasts and to starvation. One of these unfortunate deserted exiles who survived, tells us how he saw his wife perish before his eyes, how he himself fainted with exhaustion, and upon awakening beheld his two children dead by his side. For weeks, roots and grass furnished their food. Each day brought fresh miseries and fresh graves. These were days such as Shakespeare speaks of: "Each new morn-- New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows Strike heaven on the face."