lubrity of the situation, or from some other cause, in the course of a few months he was, from a robust man, reduced to a skeleton. D. Andrea Gigli, curate in the monastery of Chiravalle, was called to Rome. He was then in the enjoyment of excellent health, but in a short time his appearance was strangely altered, and, after gradually sinking, for two months, he was one morning found in his bed a corpse. We were in the same college, and I was an eye witness to the fact. D. Eugenio Ghioni remained in Rome, but, after four months, he also sunk into his tomb, at the age of thirtyone. D. Mariano Gabrielli, who was in the flower of youth, was, in the same manner, gradually declining for six months, and then, like the former one, died of what was called consumption. The Abbot Bucciarelli, a man of herculean stature, slept with his fathers after an illness of only three days. The Abbot Berti, was, after two months, attacked by a slow fever, and expired, after ten days' illness. D. A. Baldini, at the expiration of thirty-four days, was seized with violent spasms and inflammation, and went to rejoin in heaven those martyrs who had preceded him. The other six, through a special interposition of Providence, escaped death; but all had to sustain, for many months, a dangerous struggle with this last enemy. Only D. Alberico and myself remained untouched by this mysterious agency, but we lived in daily expectation of sharing the same fate. To the tragical narration of so many deaths of which iniquity was the minister, I must add an account of the melancholy end of D. Pacifico Bartocci, the master of the novices, which took place at the commencement of the third year. As he was crossing an open court in the interior of the monastery, a stone, from an unknown hand, struck him on his left temple and felled him to the ground. At the expiration of ten days he expired, without having uttered a single word since the moment of the accident. Towards the middle of this year, 1 was one evening, after supper, seized with frightful spasms in the stomach. A burning heat in the chest and throat, which kept rapidly increasing, led me to suspect the cause of this sudIn a short time, I became of a livid colour, and foamed at the den illness. 269 and mouth. On seeing around me the monks, who had hastened to my cries, I turned towards them, exclaiming, "You have your revenge! death_will soon terminate my miseries; but I esteem you less cruel in treating me thus, than in having sacrificed me by deception!" None of the remedies administered afforded me the slightest relief. All my companions were affected to tears at the sight of my sufferings? "My mother! my mother!" I exclaimed, "let me, I entreat you, see her once again before I die; my father, my brothers, my sisters, let me embrace them all;" The most sympathizing of those around me strove, by every means in their power, to calm and console me; seeing that the paroxysms increased, they became alarmed for my reason, and fearing lest, in an agony of despair, I might attempt my own life, they removed from my room every object which could be made use of for that purpose! But, alas! other torments awaited me. The master asked if I would confess, and pressed it upon me as a duty. I replied, that my faults were known to God, and before him I confessed my nothingness, my sinfulness, but not to man. Instantly, I heard a murmur of horror; some exclaimed, blasphemy!" others, "heresy, heresy!" and many, 66 poor fellow! his sufferings have deprived him of his senses!" The superior thought it expedient to represent that I was possessed by a legion of demons. No sooner was this opinion expressed than the most superstitious ran in haste to the church, and returned loaded with Romish merchandise, the vase of holy water, Agnus Dei, blessed chaplet in articulo mortis, images, relics. One sprinkled me on one side, another on the other. Some presented me with images, others placed relics on my forehead, and, by the superior, I was "exorcised "" The greater their exertions to grapple with the evil one, the stronger were the evidences of " session." pos 66 Of all the relics presented to me, the one they looked upon with most faith was that of St. Peter the Martyr. Although I had not entirely rejected the adoration of saints. St. Peter, of Verona, called the martyr, I especially abhorred. This saint, the finest fruit of the Dominican tree, was an inquisi tor, who, for having subjected a province to fire and sword, pretending to teach the way to heaven by the light of funereal piles, fell a victim to the just vengeance of a persecuted people. Imagine, benevolent readers, with what feelings I must have beheld the bones of this blood-thirsty bigot offered to me as something celestial. With all my force I thrust aside the hand of the superior, who presented the relic. He insisted upon my kissing it, esteeming it the most efficacious means whereby to chase the demon of blasphemy, which, he said, he perceived on my lips -the saint having been so zealous an exterminator of heresy. Dr. Whilst these things were going on, the physician arrived. His countenance was new to me. They told me that, in consequence of the urgency of the case, they had called in a doctor of the neighbourhood. He gave me a glass of medicine which he had brought with him, and I swallowed it with hope. A few minutes after, instead of being relieved, my pains became more intolerable, and the heat in my throat increased. I then insisted on their summoning the ordinary physician, who was, I knew, my friend. Riccardi came. Having inquired into the nature of the attack, he took from the table the phial that had contained the medicine I had swallowed, and, having examined the few remaining drops, he shuddered, and, with a mysterious and significant "ah!" threw it out of the window, quickly preparing for me another medicine, which I drank in his presence. He then left, and a violent sickness brought me the wished for relief. After three hours, he returned, and ordered that I should be placed in a hot bath, and from thence conveyed to a warm bed. This induced perspiration, which completed the happy change that the medicine had already produced; and, contrary to the expectations of my persecutors, I escaped from the jaws of death. From this time, the monks, as if to do away with any impression that they hated me, and to cancel, as it were, the recollection of their vain attempt upon my life, exhibited towards me more humane and friendly feelings. They granted me the indulgence of taking occasional rides in the company of a Spanish master. Passing one day by the Via Gregoriana, the sight of a coat of arms, over the door of a house, which I knew to be those of the Hanoverian Ambassador, roused in me a strong desire, which I had often before experienced, of conversing with some one, who, nourishing wholesome Christian principles, could enter into my feelings, and speak comfort to my soul. I at once signified to my companion my intention of seeking an interview with the Ambassador. I presented myself to the ambassador, leaving the Spaniard in the ante-chamber. Finding myself alone with him, I hastily proceeded to explain the cause of my visit, and fully disclosed the change which had taken place in my religious sentiments. He manifested great surprise at my communication, and embracing me with Christian fervour, spoke to me in the true spirit of religion. My object in this interview was, not to seek aid to escape from the fangs of the religious and political tyranny, under which Italy groans; I well knew that the charge, with which the ambassador was invested, precluded all possibility of assistance from him. I was actuated solely by a desire to confide my secret to a sympathizing soul, and I merely narrate this occurrence, in order that the Hanoverian Ambassador may be appealed to as an irrefragable witness to my having declared myself a Protestant in faith, four years before my arrival in England. I earnestly beg of him to bear witness to this solemn truth, in praise of that God who, alone, was the author of my conversion. The general was peremptory in denying me permission to return home; but since, through a servant, a safe way was opened of sending to, and receiving, genuine letters from, my family, his refusal caused me less pain. I could write what I pleased, without the lynx eye of the monks being able to penetrate into every movement of my heart. With caution, I related to my mother their barbarous attempt to poison me; I described the dreadful suffering I had undergone, and expressed my fear that they would renew their attempt to get rid of me. She, in reply, exhorted me to patience, and repeated her promise, that, at the end of the year, every exertion should be made to procure my release. The year was fast drawing to its close. The prospect of quitting the college was a balm for all my wounds. The light of the future reflected brilliantly on the present, and broke, in some degree, the darkness of the past. I spent hours in building castles in the air concerning my future life of liberty. My dreams were bright, my days were happy. The air that I breathed seemed to whisper, "I am free, and thou, ere long, wilt be free also.” THE WORKINGS OF POPERY, BY THE REV. HENRY FISH, M.A. Popery has always been grasping and avaricious. Like the grave and the horseleech's daughter, in relation to the accumulation of wealth, it has never said, "Enough." It is impossible for us to go into lengthy detail in respect to this matter; our limits will not admit of it. But we will state a few things which will tend to show the maxims, and what has been the policy, of the Church of Rome relative to it. The ways and means which Popery has invented to raise money are almost incredible. The Pope, and his Bishops and Priests, have been accustomed to derive revenue from annats; from tenths; from legatine levies; from dispensations to break either the laws of God or the Church; from the licence of brothels; from the sale of holy wares, such as relics and crosses, and charms; from the sale of indulgences; from jubilees; and from pilgrimages. And they still derive revenue from most of these sources, where Popery is the established religion, in addition to the income they receive from endowments. And, where Popery is not the established religion, they derive revenue from baptisms, from marriages, from the commutation of penance, from saying masses for souls in purgatory, from the administration of extreme unction to persons who are in dying circumstances, from dispensations and indulgences, from the burial of the dead, and from (up to a late period, when the Act was repealed) evading the Mortmain Act, in prevailing upon persons to leave them property in such a way that the property so left could not be taken from them by law. 271 There has been evident proof that the Priests have attended to matters of this kind very assiduously, both in Great Britain and Ireland. The amount of money, which the Priests obtain from, for the most part, the poverty-stricken people of Ireland, is almost incredible. It is well known that they will, if possible, make the people attend to confession. If the people will not come to them they go to the people; and they do this for more reasons than one. They are accustomed to have what are called stations. They have them twice a year, namely, at Christmas and Easter; "and it is the rule with every parishpriest, on the Sunday Previous, to publish his weekly stations through the villages. On Monday, for example, at such a man's house, and all the villagers are to attend, men and women, married and unmarried." And it is stated, on good authority, that "should any one absent himself this day, for the want of money, or any other excuse, however legitimate, the Priest sends the vestments to his house on the following day, as a punishment to the miserable man. This poor individual is then obliged, should he pawn his blanket, to prepare a dinner for the Priest; although it may be for want of a shilling to pay the Priest's dues that the unfortunate wretch absented himself the day before, which he could not pay at this periodical season of the Priest's dues." "Before these confessions begin, the Priest tells them that it is intended to do penance for their sins, which is best done by fasting and prayer, but which is quite opposite to the grand feast that the Priest not only expects, but must necessarily have, though he were sure the miserable creature should go and beg the next day.” This said writer goes on to say that, "in a certain diocese in Ireland (Killala,) formerly the dispensation of banns was but half-a-crown; now it is half-aguinea, Baptism is raised from an English shilling to an English halfcrown. Legacy, on every corpse, from an English crown diately, he will take the wheel, the pot, to ten shillings; which, if the Priest does not get immeor the blanket." "I have known a certain Priest," above furniture was wanting, to tak "where the says he, the hens from the roost!! This legacy they must get, though they were sure the miserable individual, who survives, had not a bit to put in his mouth :" and this, mark, is on the voluntary principle; for which, strange to say, the Papists have become such advocates. The following is the testimony of the Rev. E. B. Delaney in relation to the scale of fees charged by the Priests in Ireland, in 1834. "The general charge for baptism," he says, "is from five shillings to one pound; for saying masses over a corpse, the same; marriages, if called in the chapels, ten shillings and sixpence; if not, from one guinea to ten pounds, according to the person's circumstances; churching of women not charged for in the diocese of Dublin, but in the country, two shillings and sixpence; confessions not charged for now in any diocese in Ireland; but, heretofore, the charge was, from the poorest creature, one shilling; persons in middle life, eighteen-pence; and the higher class, two shillings and sixpence to five shillings. THE PERSONAL REIGN OF CHRIST. [The following paper, as furnished to a periodical, in which it was never inserted, by an individual then labouring in Ireland, whose talents and learning were not, at that time, duly appreciated, but who is now engaged, under the London Missionary Society, as one of its labourers in China, will be interesting to many of our readers.] ED. Gentlemen.-As those individuals, who hold the supposition that our Lord will reign personally on earth, often expatiate on what they call "the glory," in which they hope to participate; it appears desirable that they, also, who retain the truth in its simplicity, sometimes dilate on the blissful hopes by which they are animated. The apostle Paul, in a few comprehensive words, embodies the substance of our glorious expectations:-“ And so shall we ever be with the Lord;" 1 Thess., iv.,17-throughout all eternity we shall abide in the presence, and shall enjoy the richest love, of our Lord Jesus Christ. Wonderful scenes shall be exhibited before us, on our way to the enjoyment of the fulness of bliss: but through and beyond all these scenes, let us stretch forwards our eager anticipations, to the grand, the ultimate object, of all our hopes-the Lord Jesus all unveiled beside us, our Sun, and our ever all-blissgiving Friend. We shall bid adieu-an eternal adieu, to earth. The intermediate state, with all its ravishing, but merely spiritual, fellowships, shall reach its termination. The day of judgment—that great, that all-arousing, that tremendously important day shall arrive, shall unfold its mighty wonders; and then, it also shall close; and with it shall close all time, and all the transactions preparatory to eternity. But then shall commence the endless day; and, thenceforwards, we, all-perfected and all-glorious, shall ever be with the Lord." 66 The context of this passage exhibits to us some of the circumstances which shall accompany our grand introduction into the joy of our Lord." The scene opens just at the closing of this world's history. Divine forbearance had been exercised towards sinners, till even divine forbearance was exhausted. The wine-vat of transgression, into which every successive generation of unrepenting man had been pouring its vast amount of guilt, was now full, and its whole contents were about to be emptied out on the heads of the rejectors of mercy. The last of the redeemed from among men had just completed his course of preparation for the holy enjoyments of heaven. And now, the Lord Jesus Christ is about to be revealed in all his glory. The innumerable happy spirits of his saints are around him, in intensest expectation of the immediate consummation of their blessedness. They descend with Jesus to the place of the opening of the heavens. An awful silence is pervading the whole world beneath. All earth, and sea, and air, become still as death. Every eye is directed heavenwards in solemn expectation of some dread event. The upper skies appear to expand, and become elevated to a height sublime. They open! and He, the Lord Jesus Christ, appears! Oh, how amazingly glorious! He descends with a shout! The worlds, throughout creation, gathering around Him, listening, gaze! He speaks; and the whole myriads of the dead hear! Every individual of ،، mankind, who had lived and who had died on earth, starts again into life at the uttering of the voice of " the son of man." From the graves they all come forth" to behold their Omnipotent Sovereign. The multitudes now risen from the dead, are distinguished into two immense hosts. One of these, a swarm horrid in loathsomeness, groaning, seek to hide themselves in their congenial corruption, from the painfully manifesting light of this day of revelation. The other host, all-glorious, like the sun in the firmanent, look up on Jesus. The living saints look upwards, too, and, "in the twinkling of an eye," they also are like their Lord. He beams down on them all soul-ravishing love. They are "caught up together in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air." On His magnificent, dazzling throne, He sits. Before Him, in the view of the assembled universe, the records of time are all exposed. From his lips proceed forth the unalterable sentences of angels and of men. The doom of all is now fixed for eternity. The unclean hosts of hell, and the uncleansed rebels of earth, are commanded to "depart from the presence of the Lord;" and are driven downwards into "the lake burning with fire and brimstone," there to endure the wrath of God for ever and ever. Now, to those on his "right hand," "the King" says "come." Could we ascend along with himselfOh, how joyfully! to "inherit the kingdom prepared for us from the foundation of the world;" and so shall we "ever be with the Lord." But a veil is still between us and the 'ineffable and inconceivable delights of the inner sanctuary. Yet, from what we know of our beloved Immanuel, we may well believe that the union between him and us shall be most peculiarly blissful. He is God; and is the source of light and of all enjoyment to the whole universe. But he is also man; and all the endearing attributes of his glorified humanity shall be most delightingly exercised for evermore, towards his redeemed of the human family. As our infinite Creator, he has inexhaustible fulness to satisfy, and to bless us, the creatures of his power. But besides this, he bears towards us a relation incalculably nearer than that which he sustains towards the rest of creation. He is our kinsman Redeemer : He is the Husband of His Church. Because of this wonderful relation he will place us nearest to Himself. And there, He will enrich us with all His riches; He will delight us with all His blessedness; He will encircle us with all His glory. From every happy region throughout the vast universe, shall all adoration and all praise be unceasingly directed towards "Him who sitteth on the throne." But in His immediate presence we shall evermore abide. All His other creatures are His servants; and, as His servants, they shall serve Him. But He will call us to sit down with Him upon His throne; and with Himself we "shall reign for ever and ever. As the bountiful and all-gracious God of all holy beings, He dispenses towards every one of them completely satisfying favour. But His spouse, His wife, He will regard with all-transcending affection. The King, the Lord of hosts, has a human soul. And His is the very soul of love. And, during everlasting ages, He will breathe forth towards His redeemed, most heartmelting, soul-captivating endearments. How felicitous, how unutterably blissful, shall these endearments be! Compared with the loves of Christ and of His church, all that man ever felt and ever fancied of the delights of affection, are but as the feeble glimmerings of a passing meteor, to the constant vivifying effulgence of the glorious sun. And we shall be altogether like our Lord. Our bodies shall be "fashioned like His glorious body;" and our souls shall resemble His. How immensely different our feelings then, from what has characterized them heretofore ! Then, we shall be able to love Christ correspondingly with His amazing love for us. Till now, the love has been almost all on His side. Ever has He loved us with all-powerful, all-surmounting, and unvarying love. But, hitherto, how melancholily feeble have been our returning affections ! Now, the Unveiled, All-Lovely One is before us; and we cannot but love Him with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength: "and so shall we ever be with the Lord." "Wherefore," let us "comfort one another with these words." How amply shall our glorious enjoyment of Christ |