ess, and comes down from

heaven to stitch St. Thomas à Becket of Canterbury's gown, which was ripped in the shoulders. Another time she assists certain Monks to wipe the sweat off their faces while they were at work. * All these, and a thousand other splendid miracles, said to have been wrought by the mother of God, are avowed by the Romanists, and recorded in their books."

How awfully has the "mystery of iniquity" worked in the Papal Church! a Church which, in numerous instances, has adopted heathen rites, and ceremonies, and usages, to which she has applied Christian names, forgetting that names are altogether arbitrary and do not in any degree alter the nature of the things thus named. Never did the heathen world more awfully degenerate from pure patriarchal religion, even when they "changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things," (Rom. i. 23,) than have Papists degenerated from the simple doctrines and institutions of Christianity. The Pagan and the Papist, in their wise attempts to improve

See Meagher's Popish Mass, pp. 38-48.

and accommodate religion to the ignorant and superstitious, have alike "become fools." In one particular indeed the Papist has discovered much wisdom his corrupt system has given the Priesthood a domination over their people more absolute than was ever exercised in feudal times, by any Baron over his vassals,—a spiritual domination, which at once makes them the objects of their fear and hope, and which, before the passing of the Mortmain Act, was eminently the instrument of enriching themselves and their apostate Church. But since the passing of that Act, which was made to hinder the Popish Priesthood from robbing families of the property of their fathers, and reducing them to a state of beggary, the bequests to their Church in this country have been comparatively insignificant.

Is it wonderful that intelligent persons who see Christianity, not as it is in the Bible, but as it is in Popery,-Christianity paganized,—is it wonderful that they should think it a mere fable, and become infidels? It would be wonderful were it otherwise. Popery is the hotbed of infidelity; and should any great revolution take place in any Popish nation, conducted on the principles of the French revolution, it will again be seen, as in that case, that A NATION OF PAPISTS WILL SOON BECOME A NATION OF ATHEISTS.

DIALOGUE IV.

ON CONFESSION AND ABSOLUTION.

Peter and O'Brien.

Peter. WHAT! is this my honest neighbour O'Brien? When you first hove in sight, I took you for some English non-resident landlord, you appeared so fine. Did I not know that you are already married, I should have thought you were going in search of a wife. But pray why are you in your holiday dress to-day?

O'Brien. Why, now, I wonder indeed that your honour should ask me such a question, when your honour knows as well as I do, that this is Shrove-Tuesday.

Peter. True enough, I know it is ShroveTuesday; a day, O'Brien, famous for pancakes; and, in many places, not less noted for cockfighting and throwing at cocks, the brutal remains of heathenish and barbarous customs,

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which neither the "march of intellect" nor the progress of Christianity has entirely destroyed. But surely you have not dressed so fine to go either to a pancake-feast or to a cock-fight!

O'Brien. No, your honour, indeed I have not; for though I have no objection either to pancakes or to cock-fights, I am on very different business to-day. This is Shrove or Shriven (which, I am told, learned men say is the old Saxon word for confession) day. And in obedience to the Holy Catholic Apostolic Church, I am going to confess all my sins; and therefore I have clothed myself in my best attire.

Peter. What! To confess all the sins of the whole of your past life?

O'Brien. No, thanks to the blessed Virgin, and Father Dominic, I need not do that; for, through her kind intercession, and his absolving power, I have only the last six months' sins to confess. All the rest are gone as completely as if they were drowned in the Lethe. You know, Sir, short reckonings make long friends; and I make a point of never having more than six months' sins to answer for at a time.

Peter. Six months' sins! Do you think, O'Brien, that you can remember them all? But perhaps you have written them all down, and will simply read them, that there may be no omission.

O'Brien. Not I, indeed. I will confess as

many as I can remember, and I think I can remember nearly the whole; but lest any should have escaped me, I will add, "For these, and all other, my sins, which I cannot at this present call to my remembrance, I am heartily sorry."

Peter. Well, I think it very right that you should add such a clause. But you very much surprise me by saying, you think you "can remember nearly the whole." I suspect your notion of sin is not quite correct. Pray will you have the goodness to tell me what you think sin is?

O'Brien. Why, every body knows what sin is; at least every good Catholic is well acquainted with it.

Peter. I entertain some doubts on that subject, O'Brien; and you will greatly oblige me by informing me what sin is.

O'Brien. Well, then, your honour, I will define it. Sin is of two kinds,-one against God, the other against the Church. The first is the breach of all or any of the Ten Commandments. The second is disobedience to the orders of the Church; such as eating flesh in Lent; or eating more than one meal on a fast-day; or working on Good-Friday; or omitting to pray to the blessed Virgin and the saints, as often as the Priest appoints; or not always reverently bowing

* Garden of the Soul, p. 211.