created some sensation on the Continent, and especially in France. The feeling, however, has not been one of fear, but of wonder. This document runs so directly in opposition to the political and scientific tendencies of the age, (not to mention the religious,) that, it is argued, the traditional craft of the Papacy, in the pliancy of its seeming adaptation to circumstances, must have forsaken it; and Pius IX., and his conclave of cardinals, are possessed with a truly unaccountable fatuity. Such, at least, is the opinion of those liberal thinkers who wished to be on terms of amity with professors of every kind of religion, or of no religion; who were in favour of Maynooth endowments, of Government aid to Convent schools, and of the appointment of Romish chaplains to work houses and jails. These patrons of Popery, on the ground of political convenience, are especially scandalized when they find the exact portrait of the old and intolerant superstition, as set forth at ExeterHall meetings, verified by the Pope himself. So long as "His Holiness" denounced only Bible Societies, and proclaimed all beyond the pale of Romanism to be beyond the pale of salvation, the political friends of the Church of Rome in this country listened to anathemas, unshocked; but now that he denounces liberalism, civilization, and the principles of toleration, and defends Legitimacy, and would, if possible, revive the politics and philosophy, as well as the ecclesiasticism, of the middle ages; they bitterly complain of his stupidity and presumption! But what he will feel more keenly than the upbraidings of newspapers is the treatment which his letter has received from the "eldest son of the Church." Napoleon III. declines to allow the bishops and priests of France to read to their flocks those portions of the document which attack political doctrines of a certain

kind. No wonder at the prohibition: for upon some of the principles assailed by the Pope is the throne of the Emperor based. One episcopal zealot, at least, has already dared the imperial authority, and for his conduct must now give an account to the law of the empire. If general disgust at the extravagant pretensions of the Papacy be aroused among the educated classes; if statesmen are convinced of the incompatibility of Romanism in power with civil and religious liberty; and if the breach between the Seven Hills and the liberal Roman Catholic powers of Europe be widened,-then some good to the cause of righteousness and truth will come out of this latest effort of the Vatican to control circumstances that are apparently hastening its own doom.

It is very remarkable, and very humiliating to the Protestantism of England, that, while the Pope's noisy but impotent thunder is laughed at in Roman Catholic countries on the Continent, in this land Popery is working insidiously within the pale of the Established Church, and without it, under its own proper name, openly and avowedly, with vigour and audacity. It still, as of old, creeps into houses, leading captive silly women, overtaken by divers lusts. The Brompton Oratory case presents a specimen of danger to the domestic institution, prized and cherished as it is in England, as well as of daring and astonishing success. Not only does Father Bowden succeed in keeping a girl of sixteen away from her mother, but actually succeeds, notwithstanding an exhibition in a public court of Jesuitical equivocation, in obtaining, virtually, the extra-judicial acquiescence of a metropolitan magistrate to the wrong inflicted upon the unfortunate mother.

That any ecclesiastic, and especially that any priest of Rome, should be permitted to kidnap the child of any English parent, and

A

WESTMINSTER

DIARY OF SCHOOLBOY IN 1751. The secret workings of a child's mind are not often unfolded to others as they appear in the following extracts from the juvenile unpublished diary of Augustus Toplady. As a relic of so remarkable a man, it may be considered a sort of literary curiosity; and for its authenticity the tran scriber is able to vouch most satisfactorily. A the time when Mr. Toplady's works were published, this article was considered to juvenile, as a whole, to appear among them; but was carefully kept in safe hands, with the idea that the transcript of a few pages might be acceptable to the readers of an old periodical published in the last generation by Hatchard and Son, Piccadilly. Many a parent, aunt, uncle, grandmother, and schoolmaster, may here find some useful hints as to the effect of the conduct of seniors on the minds of children, when they least suspect it. For each such tender, susceptible, little immortal, committed to our guardian care and tenderness, precept and example, we must yet give a strict account, in answer to the touching question, "Where is the flock that was given thee? thy beautiful flock?"

DIARY, &c., 1751.

October 20th.-I began to write a book of duty, and ended it in December. November 27th.-Began another, and ended it, February 25th, 1752.

On Shrove Tuesday I wrote a sermon. I have three more, of my own composition.

1752.

February 28th.-My dear, dear, dear mamma bought me a set of boxes, all one in another; very beauteous and useful. My aunt in February gave me a

large black box to keep my writings in. I make vast progress in my book, and have vigorously and industriously endeavoured to do my task well. I always prav to God as I go to my school....... I love God always, and endeavour to cast away sin....... Before I went to Deptford, I had bought, out of my own money, a large strong book case in 1751.

March. I wrote a manual of prayers. 19th. I went to Mr. Darby's. Very civilly entertained.

24th and 25th.-Very ill. My mamma provided me with everything needful, like a kind, indulgent parent as she is.

Apfil 5th. My aunt Betsey invented a terrible mistake of me. I have a little garden she said she sowed some horseradish in it, and that I had pulled it up. Swore in a solemn manner! In a fortnight I saw a great head of horse-radish. I told her of the mistake, and of the consequences that would attend getting a bad character on me; on which she multiplied her number from one piece of radish to two, stands to it, and that I told a lie! But, thanks be to God, I scorn one. God forgive her! for I do.

6th. My prayer, going to school :— "O Lord God, dear Redeemer, heavenly Father! grant that I may not have any anger from Doctor Nicholls, Doctor Lloyd, or any of the ushers, that may proceed from any one cause whatever, and in, particular.... (here I name my fears.) Amen.

"Grant also that I may not have any quarrels with my schoolfellows. Grant that peace may circulate in our hearts, as if we were brothers. Amen."

In school I join in the prayers, and add, "Receive my praise, O Lord, for protecting me from all anger. Grant that nothing may come to interrupt the unity which ought to subsist between dear mamma and me." Coming back :

"Thanks be to Thee for my progress in my learning, and for all Thy goodness, kindnesses, and comforts. Amen." 7th.-Mamma told me I was as good to her as ten children: see the tendemess of a kind, dear mother!

Ilth. My dear mamma, having heard my prayers, cried tears for joy; and said she hoped I would never leave the right road; and bid me beware cautiously of sin, that God's heavenly grace might be with me. She hath often told me that the best kindness to her after her death was not to deviate from God's laws. She is affable and obliging, but her complaisance does not exceed the bounds of truth; and, in private, pious and discreet. Let her Christian graces and pious example be an everlasting pattern for me to copy. I doubt not but she will be in a felicial state in the kingdom of Christ. I must praise God for sparing the life of mamma so long as to instruct me in the right paths.

May 14th.-Went to Deptford ; walked there and back. They desired me to stay some few days; but, as mamma bid me go home the same night, I rather chose to obey her than to be in pleasure by disobedience.

16th. I heard that my grandmamma said my mother would bring me up to be a scourge to herseif. This is the love of my grandmother! who before my face pretended kindness, but behind my back could stab me by taking away my reputation with my mother!

I went to my uncle Jack's. He never asked me to sit down. (Very rude.) When I first came in, he set an ill look, and made me repeat my message several times over; which was, "Sir, mamma presents her service to you, and hopes you are well." He, having yet a very rude look, asked me, "Why did you not come on Sunday?' I told him that I should have waited on him, but that I had not clothes fit to come out on a Sunday; that we were in such want of money, every day seemed two; and that I had not good stockings. He never asked me to sit down, but sent my mamma two guineas, and my aunt two more. She gave me a shilling.

July 15th. Went to aunt Betsey's, who set forward a most dreadful quarrel, calling me names, &c., &c.; and, after the most abusive and gross language, she bid me get out of the house! Mamma made it up, and on Sunday, 19th, I went and dined with her.

25th. Almost drowned; the cramp seizing me in a pool of water.

August 15th.-Evans, the King's

Scholar, was drowned. Mr. Lewis, Sarah Tate, and several others, have popped off this unhappy year.

30th. I have for this month past been very kindly invited to Mr. Godwin's, of Norfolk. His son made me very genteel speeches.

November 2d.-Mrs. Loveday paid me a very genteel compliment, of which I am very undeserving. She said I am a second Timothy, who from a child had known the Holy Scriptures. I do not set this down from my vanity; knowing fair speeches are but compliments.

I am now arrived to the age of eleven years, November 4th, 1752. I praise God I can remember no dreadful crime. Not to me, but to the Lord, be the glory! Amen.

December 5th.-I received a very abusive letter from my aunt Betsey. I heard she set my uncle at Deptford against me, telling him I had made my uncle John rude to her.

23d. Went to my uncle Jack's to dine. Ran the gauntlet sorely; for I carried two or three of my sermons to show to my cousin Kitty, as she had often desired me. My uncle took hold of them, and read part of one, and asked, "Whose I got them out of?" I told him, "Nobody'" He shook his head, and said, "He knew what children can do before now." I still urged, that I really did not take them out of any one, but they were my own. He bid me hold my tongue, and not make it worse by denying it; saying, "You cannot persuade beyond my senses. You know they are not yours; for you have taken them out of Bishop Andrews." (A fing bishop, truly, to make no better sermons than these!) He went on, "If you were my boy, I would flay you alive "—(a fine friendly expression from an own uncle !) "for doing such things, and fetch the truth out of you!" "Sir," says I, "it hath been the great care of my mamma, who hath laboured with me night and day, to avoid lying. I hope I scorn it; and I am sure I do. in this particular." "Well," says he, "I am sure I have no business with it." A little after this, Mrs. Bate came into the room; and Miss and she were in a close whisper, and looked at me now and then. At night I came home.

1753.

January 27th.-My aunt Betsey sent for me, and, after the most ungenteel treatment, flew at me, and beat me sadly.

31st. Went to school.

February 9th.-Went to school. Jack Tempest owes me a penny.

10th. He paid me. March 4th.-A whole holiday. aunt gave me a shilling.

My

9th.-Mamma gave me a black velvet waistcoat, which I like vastly, because it is the first plain waistcoat I ever had, and makes me look grave, and like a man. It was the kinder in mamma, because last summer I had two blue waistcoats, &c. I put this down that I may not forget mamma's kindness, but be dutiful and grateful.

10th.-Had a vast, hard, bad slap from my usher, for all I carri d him gold but the Thursday before. Had a letter from my uncle, Rector of the new church at Deptford.

But I don't much care for him; because, when I went down to stay a day or two, last Christmas but one, Mrs. Bate cut me fat meat, though she knew I did not love it; no more do her children; yet she makes them eat it. the difference there is between their mamma and mine! But I was determined I would not dine there the next day, though I knew nobody thereabouts but their dog. I set off to wander all about Greenwich Park; and it was a mighty pleasure to me, because I looked great, as if I had dined somewhere else. When I came home, my cousins and Mrs. Bate asked me where I had been; but I was sure not to tell them, because it made me look like somebody.

April 24th.-Saw my Lord Mayor go in procession. Went at night to the play, and saw "The Orphan; or the Unhappy Marriage."...... I hate that sad part where the chaplain is pulled by the nose by Polydore. It disgraces the plot of the play, to show so great a disregard to religion. And, when Acasto is sick, the chaplain comes bowing in, and speaks in an humble voice, and Acasto says, "No fawning, I beseech thee."......This puts the clergy on too low a footing, and ought to be despised. The farce was the "Englishman in Paris,❞—a foolish thing, in my low opinion.

29th." Lord my God! guide me with thy Holy Spirit, so that I may spend the approaching month in equity and purity. Grant that no accident may happen to me this new month; but protect and keep me, O God of my salvation! Amen."

May 6th.-My aunt gave me a great hunk of cake.

12th. Walked over the bridge with my aunt. Met my dear "Boy," (a dog that I love vastly,)-a grateful, goodnatured dog. I love him more than any dog. He is just half a yard high, (I measured him,) and is chiefly black;

only his legs spotted with white. His head is black and shining; the lower part of his back, black and white. He has a beautiful white mark round his neck, like a collar. I also know another dog, that is Mr. Hancock's, of Turtlestreet. His name is Pompey.. He will fly at anybody that meddles with me; an instance which one Christian ought to show to another. And therein most dumb creatures are to be copied after; because every bird, dog, cat, and every anin.al, knows his benefactor, and loves him.

15th. I believe I shall never forget my deliverance to-day. The cramp seized me in the water; I sunk, and was carried away by the stream. I stopped at some rushes, and made shift to get on them; and so, in a vast perturbation, I got again on land. Mr. Woodward told me I stared like a madman for several minutes. Bob Trimmer told me, if I had been drowned he would have got me out. Said I, "I thank you; but it would have done me more good if you had got me out while I was alive. Afterwards my friends could have got me out." I shall never forget how my head ached, and what a great deliverance I had, for which I cannot return God thanks enough.

August 23d. On this day twelvemonth I was like to be drowned at Farnham, where I was born and christened. I went to church that day, before I went into the water; perhaps for that reason God saved me. In remembrance of my escape, I went now to St. James's church, and put up a bill of thanks. Afterwards mamma and I took a walk to Hyde Park.

September 2d.-Went

to aunt

Betsey's. She is quite out of the way. She is so vastly quarrelsome, in short, she is so fractious and captious and insolent, that she is unfit for human society. Read the Bible; mamma one chapter, and I another; and read also the Pilgrim's Progress. Poor mamma is a little out of temper.

8th. Mrs. Stapleton came to our house, whom I treated with a pot of my plum jam. If I had known she would have taken it, I would not have offered it to her.

16th. This is the last day of my holidays, to my sorrow. I read and prayed a great while at home.

October 8th.-Sat up late about my "Farce," which I intend to show to Mr. Garrick, master of Drury-Lane.

November 4th. Sunday.-This day I enter my thirteenth year.

29th.-Lord Norris promised me to go with him to see the lottery drawn.

30th. Was dressed on purpose to go with the dishonourable Norris, till twelve o'clock; who promised to be at our bouse at nine. Fate defend me from such noblemen !

December 16th.-Went to uncle Jack's in Bloomsbury-square. I asked the footman if my uncle was at home; be said, he was. I desired to speak with him. The man said, my uncle left word with him to bid me come there no more, and that he would read no letter or message that comes from me! Pray God look upon it. Amen. I have done no more harm to him than a child unborn.... Nor do I know to what cause to attribute his un-unely behaviour. We do not want his assistance; for we have another estate of my father's coming to us in March.

1754.

January 27th. Sunday.—Went to St. Martin's church. Heard a poor, mean, long sermon from the Bishop of Banor. The only good thing in it was when he said, "To conclude."

February 2d.-Wrote a hymn. Made but two scratches in it. It all came flop into my head.

May 21st. The doctor again. Worse than ever. O my cruel aunt! to make me go out on the water in such a heat! Poor dear mamma is quite worn cut: not a night but she is up four or five times. Hot and restless; sore in every joint. Poor precious mamma went out at eleven at night to my doctor.

25th. Most marvellously better.

The foregoing may serve as a specimen of childish thoughts and feelings; which will, it is hoped, be both interesting and suggestive to parents and

children.-R. R. T.

NEW-YEAR'S-DAY CUSTOMS.January 1, 1865. January" we call this month, as the Romans did from their god Janus, who, at the threshold of the new year, stood with two faces, one looking back on the past, and the other forward to the future. He was the god of gates and avenues, and held a key in his right hand and a rod in his left, to symbolize his opening and ruling the year; and sometimes he held the number three hundred in one hand and sixtyfive in the other, to signify the number of days in the year. The Saxons call the month "Wolf-monath," because wolves, driven by hunger, were wont to prowl about and attack even men in their

desire for food. It was also called by the Saxons "Efter Yula," or "After Christmas." The month was often represented by a man with faggots and a woodman's axe, shaking and blowing his fingers. The first of January, according to some, was ushered in with rejoicings, presents, and good wishes, as early as the days of Romulus and Tatius; and the usual presents then were figs and dates covered with leaf-gold; and pieces of pottery have been discovered bearing inscriptions suitable to the day, and evidently intended for presents, commemoIn our own counrative of the season.

try, so far back as the times of the ancient Britons, we read of Druids, on a certain day, cutting down branches of mistletoe with a golden knife, and distributing them as gifts for the new year. Coming farther down, we find our kings receiving, and, as some say, extorting Both presents from their subjects. Henry III. and Edward VI. are mentioned by an antiquarian writer, the former requiring new-year's gifts, the latter rewarding from the public revenue those officers and servants who had sent presents to the "king's majestie." In Henry VIII.'s reign, honest old Latimer is said to have given to the King, instead of a purse of gold, as was the custom, a New Testament, with the leaf turned down at Heb. xiii. 4. "Good Queen Bess," too, received her share of princely gifts from her nobles and courtiers,-very princely, it may be judged from lists given by Dr. Drake in his "Shakspeare and his Times." Oranges stuck with cloves were popular gifts, and pins were considered acceptable by ladies of the fifteenth century, when wooden skewers were the only things they had to fasten their dresses. Sometimes they received money instead; hence, allowances for their separate use came to be called "pin money. Gloves were often given as New-Year's gifts. Sir Thomas More, when Lord Chancellor, having given judgment in favour of a certain lady, received, on the next New-Year's Day, a pair of gloves, with forty angels inside. In thanking her, Sir Thomas said, "It would be against good manners to forsake a gentlewoman's New-Year's gift, and I accept the gloves; their lining you will be pleased to bestow otherwise." -Churchman's Magazine.

THE CALCULATING MACHINE.Everybody has heard of Babbage's calculating machine; but many will now learn for the first time, [on referring to "Passages from the Life of a Philosopher,"