ness. Why cannot she do the thing that is right, without fear of her people deserting her? There is something very pusillanimous and pettish in this harassing fear of the attraction of Popery. Let it be our constant aim to oppose the establishment of the Roman Catholic religion in this country; let us prove that the supremacy of the Pope and many of the Popish doctrines are without warrant from Holy Scripture; but never let us cease to elevate the devoutness of Protestantism, to place her in a primitive position, and by rejecting not the foundation points, but the novel superstructures of the Romanist belief, ever seek to show that the Church of England is a true branch of the catholic Church of Christianity. Dr. Johnson took the same line as afterwards proposed by Dr. Arnold; both argued against the errors of the Romanist doctrine, both spoke in favour of the Romanist devotional practice. This may not be popular, for, as Leigh Hunt tells us of Henry the Eighth's time, "the monk then ceased to walk, and the gallant London apprentice became more riotous;" so in the present day does this riotousness abound, much to the detriment of staidness of habit, and love of daily religion.

The young and gifted Kirke White, in an excellent letter to his brother James on the Services of the Church, speaking of Roman Catholics, thus kindly says: "There was once no other religion in the world; and we cannot think that Church very wicked, which God chose, once, to make the sole guardian of his truth. There have been many excellent and pious men among the Roman Catholics, even at the time their public faith was corrupted."

Persons who think and write thus are often exposed during their life-time to the taunt of having a leaning towards Popery; and thus they are made miserable, although they live and die true Protestants, and never cherished the remotest idea of turning to the Church of Rome. Of course the taunt proceeds from illiberal and narrowminds, but still it inflicts pain; although it betrays more fearfulness of becoming unsteady in those who make the charge, than in those who are its objects. We might give many instances, especially in recent time, in proof of liberality towards others being quite consistent with the firmest maintenance of our own opinions; but let us choose an elder one, that of the judicious and modest author of the preface to Dugdale's Monasticon, who says, as though in anticipation of a like charge, "I humbly crave leave, before I advance any farther, publicly to profess myself to be a sincere, though very unworthy, member of the Church of England, and that I have as true and hearty affection for her interest as perhaps any other person whatsoever. And yet I cannot but here publicly declare, that I think it would have been more happy for her, as well as for the nation in general, had King Henry the VIIIth. only reformed and not destroyed the Abbeys and other religious houses. Monastic institution is very ancient, and it had been very laudable, had he reduced the manner of worship to the primitive form. Popery, as I take it, signifies no more than the errors of the Church of Rome; had he therefore put a stop to those errors, he had acted wisely, and very much to the content of all truly good religious men."

Such men as these, it may be depended on, are the

worthiest opponents of the Church of Rome, and most dreaded by her; such men can take up a strong position as members of the true Catholic Church, and Rome knows well enough, that against a firmly compacted phalanx of such men, she can reasonably avail nothing, and that nothing can bring back power to her again, but some outrageous outbreak and increase of the sectaries, strong and rude enough to break down the bulwarks presented by her ancient, unwearied, and wellinstructed foe, the Church of England. The battle must be fought by the divines of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and on their basis alone, if permanence of success be desired; they have stood on ancient ground, plucked up all the weeds, but retained the plants of saving truth. Presbyterians, Brownists, Independents, as writes the Protestant Bramhall, have been Rome's best friends: " for certainly they have done you," addressing the Romanist M. de la Milletière," more service in England than ever you could have done for yourselves." *

In these days, as in other times, a man must be prepared to endure obliquy, (or rather his aim will be exaggerated,) when he endeavours to maintain what he believes to be the truth. "Is it not hard measure," asked Bishop Horne,† when a Presbyter and accused of being a Hutchinsonian, " that when a clergyman only preaches the doctrines and enforces the duties of Christianity from the Scriptures, his character shall be blasted and himself rendered odious by the force of a

* See Bramhall's Works, vol. i. p. 36, of his Answer to M. de la Milletière.

+Jones's Life of Horne, p. 82.

T

name, which, in such cases, always signifies what the imposers please to mean, and the people to hate. There are many names of this kind now in vogue. If a man preaches Christ, that he is the end of the law, and the fulness of the Gospel: You need not mind him, he is a Hutchinsonian!' If he mentions the assistance and direction of the Holy Spirit, with the necessity of prayer, mortification, and the taking up of the Cross: Oh, he is a Methodist!' If he talks of the divine right of Episcopacy, with a word concerning the danger of schism: Just going over to Popery!' And if he preaches obedience to King George: 'You may depend upon it, he is a Pretender's man!""

This is simply a portion of the imperfection of this lower world, and too often seen in men of really religious disposition, as though to signify that the heavenly treasure is deposited but in earthen vessels, and that there is consequently no perfection on this side the grave. Growth in grace, however, will destroy the accusing spirit in man, for then, as Cecil says, "there will be more usefulness, and less noise; more tenderness of conscience, and less scrupulosity: there will be more peace, more humility: when the full corn is in the ear, it bends down because it is full." Religion becomes too momentous a concern- -we make it not a matter of mere nickname and wrangling,

CHAPTER XIX.

HIS SUPERSTITION.

SUPERSTITION is a too credulous belief in supernatural agencies and visions, attendant on weakness of mind; it is a favouring of those secret apprehensions and horrors to which mankind are naturally prone. It is yet strange that some great minds have been subject to superstition. The ancient Greeks and Romans, learned and valiant, were especially so; and many heroic acts were performed, and many attempts at such prevented, through the appearance of the entrails of the beast* or bird in sacrifice, or by some ridiculous sign or manifestation. The effect of giving credence to such things, is either to render a man recklessly bold, or to make him timid, anxious, and desponding. We know how Alexander the Great became an abject victim of superstition. He turned the least incident into a sign or a prodigy. "The

When Sylla landed in Italy, he immediately sacrificed and the liver of the victim had the plain impression of a crown of laurel, with two strings hanging down. Of course this was a most cheering omen. When Alexander was marching towards Babylon, he heard that Apollodorus, its governor, had sacrificed, in order to consult the gods concerning him. Alexander sent for Pythagoras, to ask him how the entrails of the victim appeared. Pythagoras answered, the liver "A terrible presage, indeed!" said Alexander.

was without a head.