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many hundred times to mistake, was on his face, and on his eye and clammy forehead-a period in human life when men are perhaps least apt to simulate. "Now," said I, you have confessed; what remains is, for you to pray to our Saviour Christ for forgiveness, who only can forgive you." He said, "Yes," and we prayed. But the shattered remnants of Papal superstition hung around him to the last. He afterwards wished me to give him a crucifix to kiss, to put him in remembrance of Jesus. I told him it would not answer any good purpose so to do, and said, "Adore Christ in your heart;" and I then repeated a little impromptu adoration of our Redeemer. He placed his hands together, and appeared deeply engaged in Divine meditation whilst I spoke.

Perhaps this young man had a fond mother, for he was evidently well and gentle bred, who would have given half the world to have been there, to have closed the eyes of her child; or a sister, perhaps, who might just then have been thinking and weeping over the remembrance of her long exiled brother-thinking perhaps of the days, when, on their own lands in childhood, they played together on the greensward:

"The grateful breeze was breathing round,
And golden flowers bedeck'd the ground;

Health, peace, and calm content were there,---
Those halycon days."

But there was none of earth to stand by him in the hour of death, but a comrade and a Missionary. Just before he died, he made an effort to reach my hand, which, on my offering to him, he took between his own, and with extreme difficulty raised to his lips and kissed it, and then

placed it upon his heart, and endeavoured to express his thankfulness for my visits; but "the silver cord was loosed," the "dust returned to the dust as it was, and the spirit returned to God who gave it." He passed into eternity.

"Eternity, that vast unknown,

Who can that deep abyss explore;
Which swallows up the ages gone,
And rolls its billows evermore?
Oh! may we find that boundless sea,
A bright, a bless'd eternity."

The chapter will now conclude with a brief account of a visit to St. George's Roman Catholic Cathedral, Southwark, on the morning of Candlemas-day, 1851.

The writer visited this Cathedral for Missionary purposes, among other occasions, on last Candlemas-day. A brief description of that visit will not be out of place, in a detail of the practices of Romanism:

Being a dark winter's morning favoured the exhibition, but the moiety of daylight which was not excluded by the curtains, lessened the dramatic effect. It was of course high-mass.

The altar is certainly a magnificent structure, and within its precincts, on another less important occasion, I counted no less than one hundred and fifty-six lights. On the left is the throne of the Cardinal, who on this occasion was to preach. Abundance of scarlet and gold are seen in every

part, which forms a studied contrast with the plainness of the cathedral itself, and the organ and choir gallery, which wear an extremely mortified appearance. The organ is an excellently toned one, and excellently played, and the choir is full and effective-the music fascinating. On entering and paying sixpence, I was presented by the verger with a ticket, of which there were different kinds given. I walked towards the middle aisle to secure a good seat, but was at once stopped by a man in a black robe, who I understood to be a member of a Holy Guild; he pointed to the side aisle, and receiving my ticket, said, "That way." Taking no notice, I walked forward, but he stopped me, saying, "You must go there." I inquired in a whisper, Why?" although I certainly did not fully need the information, and was told, not very civilly, "It was because I ad not paid enough." In passing to this second- ate accommodation, I observed others were furnished with much worse. These were the poor, who are admitted on payment of one penny, which payment I have observed to be scrupulously exacted. These are placed in long pens on either side, at the back of the cathedral, railed off from the other portions of the edifice, as at Moorfields, etc., and are not allowed seats at all. I recollect once at Moorfields Chapel being forcibly struck with the almost barbarity of this, in the instance of various women who stood near my seat. The procession of priests, holy boys, etc., which passed twice around the aisles, consisted of upwards of sixty individuals, the leading priest sprinkling holy water on either side, which is supposed to have some sanctifying effect on the edifice and its occupants; each of the members of the procession carried a candle of great size, and a number had

notes, singing as they perambulated, and accompanied by the organ. Then mass proceeded, after which a hymn was sung, and Cardinal Wiseman, with mitre on head, and crook in hand, was processioned with great pomp to the pulpit. He ascended the stairs, preceded by one attendant priest, and followed by another, who stationed themselves on each side the Cardinal in the pulpit. Positions

being thus arranged, he was helped off with his mitre by the priest on his right, who on receiving the same, devoutly kissed his hand; the Cardinal then committed the silver-headed crook to the priest on his left hand, who also kissed his hand on receiving the same.

The sermon consisted chiefly of a detail of the paraphernalia of the ancient Jewish Church, attendant on its rites and ceremonies, and of the Divine light, the Sheckinah, that filled the temple,* from which a comparison was drawn of the superior glory of the Christian Church, as possessing the body, blood, and divinity of our blessed Saviour, ever present in the adorable sacrifice of the mass.'

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How different from such error, the pure and unsophisticated teachings of our own Protestant faith! How well said Cotton Mather:

"When the cloud of glory, which was the Sheckinah, that had our Saviour with the angels of his presence dwelling in it, came down and filled the temple of old, what a grateful spectacle was it, and what acclamations of joy and praise were heard from those who saw it! Now a godly man is a temple of God, a living temple, far dearer to him

*2 Chron. v. 13, 14.

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than the most costly and splendid material temple in the world. And our Saviour comes into a heart, that is continually instructing, reforming, and solacing itself by thinking of him. O thou heart that pantest after thy Saviour, so kind is he, so very kind, that even at the call of a thought, he will come in unto thee!""

This is well spoken-Christ formed in the heart the hope of glory.* Before this Rome fades. No room here for the arrogant presumptions of Romish mediators between Heaven and earth. No space for the blasphemy of miracle-mongers, who would persuade the sons of men, that by vain and impious prayers, power is committed to them, to conjure the fruits of the earth, into the body and blood of the earth's Creator and Redeemer.

The

The Lord have mercy on the deluded! Lord keep closer to our hearts the simplicity which is in Christ Jesus!

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