it may seem a very absurd thing to speak at all of the Popish priests, who are neither wont to be good, nor wish to be subjects. Therefore let us dismiss them, and come to the laity, whom we assert cannot be good subjects, if they desire to believe and obey the subtle Jesuits.

"There are two doctrines of the Jesuits (to say nothing of the rest) which completely root up the foundations of the allegiance of the laity. "One is, that an oath of fidelity given to his own prince, may, by the authority of a foreign prince or potentate, that is, the Roman Pontiff, be dissolved. For what will bind him in the duty of a good subject, who pays no regard to the obligation of a solemn oath ? Now this the Jesuits instil into all the laity. That they owe a slight allegiance towards their prince, and that it has no weight unless it be derived from the will of the Pope; so that if the Pope should order them to renounce their allegiance, and to rush against their own sovereign, piety itself would forthwith constrain them to be impious. Bellarmine has devoted an entire tract to prove that an oath of fidelity cannot indeed be taken by our Papists, without a renunciation of the Catholic faith. It is even a common opinion of all Jesuits, that every oath of fidelity whatsoever, and by whatever solemnity procured or taken, may be abrogated by Papal authority. To add no more, who shall say that he is a faithful subject towards his prince, who will, no longer than it appears good to him, either continue faithful or subject, to whom kings, the better and the more holy they are, upon that very account are the more odious to them?

"Another doctrine, which cuts the very sinews of allegiance in the Popish laity, is that which the Jesuits force upon their disciples, viz., that it is not lawful for Christians to tolerate an heretical king, if he attempt to draw his subjects into his heresy; as Bellarmine decides (De Rom. Pont. 5, 7). And lest the minds of novices should waver in a matter of so much moment, Parsons confidently affirms:-' As to allegiance, it is clear that every Christian prince, if he manifestly turns aside from the Catholic religion, and shall wish to draw away others, cuts himself off immediately from all power and dignity, and that before the sentence of the Pope is issued; and that his subjects may and ought, if they have the means, to depose him, as a heretic, from the government of Christian men.' Suarez has the like in his book, De Censuris, disp. xv., sect. 6, p. 262. It is not necessary further to stir this sink; consider well this one thing (of which you are all well aware) that our religion is that which the Jesuits call heresy; that our Protestant sovereigns are those who, according to their opinion, endeavour to withdraw their subjects from the Catholic religion. This, then, is the tendency of the above dogma, viz., to persuade Papists that they are bound, as soon as they shall have the means, to attack, and hurl from the throne their Protestant monarchs, under whose governments they live. If they have not yet attempted this, Bellarmine (De Rom. Pont. 5, 7) incautiously enough has blabbed the true reason: 'Not that they want the will, but that they have not yet sufficient temporal power.'

"It would not be beside the matter to treat, in this place, of blind obedience and Jesuitical equivocation, which two heads of Jesuitic doctrine whoever learns, he of necessity unlearns, by the same means,

the duty of a good subject; for blind obedience prepares the Popish Jesuits for all the commands, however impious, required by their spiritual superiors. And would to God that the things which those superiors often enjoin to superstitious men, bringing mischief upon sovereigns, and that under the notion of some extraordinary merit, needed proof! And as to what relates to equivocation, or the mental reservation of the Jesuits, if it be impiety in a good subject to deceive the lawful magistrate by lies and perjuries, they who do this under a change of name alone, and confidently maintain that they may do it, cannot claim to themselves either the title of good subjects or good men."-Allport's Translation of Bishop Davenant on Justification, vol. ii., pp. 307-310.

(To be continued.)

MONTMORENCY.-A ROMAN CATHOLIC TALE.

(Continued from p. 241.)

Clara had scarcely recovered from the agitation occasioned by her interview with Father Adrian, when a gentle tap was heard at the door of her chamber, and, reluctantly opening it, she saw Clarice, who entering the room, thus addressed her :

"I will not apologize for intruding on your solitude, since what I have to relate so nearly concerns yourself that it shall be my best excuse, but I must own I am in doubt whether to laugh or weep— whether to be serious or treat the whole as unworthy of anything but ridicule, for what I have to relate is such a strange composition of absurdities, that had I not heard with my ears and seen with my eyes, I could not believe it possible that a rational being, with a strong mind, such as Frances possesses, could have given credit to visions so extravagant and mysterious.

"You must know, Clara, rather more than an hour since, Frances requested to see me alone, and in a manner more affectionate than usual placed in my hand a letter written by the abbess of a nunnery in Sa neighbouring town, which letter states the following undoubted facts: -A few nights since as the abbess lay on her bed, just after nocturns, a mysterious light shone round the room, and a vision appeared in the form of a female. The abbess of course trembled from head to foot, till the visitor, who was no other than Saint Francis, spoke, and in a voice of celestial sweetness, calmed her fears; the saint then informed her there was a great work to be done, and done quickly; she must write at once to one of whom she had never heard, but whom she should one day embrace as a daughter beloved, and honoured as an instrument of singular benefit to the Catholic faith; this favoured being was Frances, heiress of Cleves, who was destined by heaven to a noble calling and high privileges; she must exhort her at once to break the earthly fetters with which ambitious and worldly relatives would chain her soul to the dust, She must even break through every soft and tender feeling of nature, should they stand in the way of duty, and be ready to obey, be the orders

never so severe. The saint then caused a succession of scenes to pass before the eyes of the abbess, the meaning of which she could not unravel, but had orders to relate all she beheld to Frances, heiress of Cleves. She first beheld a young and beautiful female seated near a pile of gold; by her side stood an aged man, tall and of a venerable countenance, he laid his withered hand on the glittering heap and claimed it and her for an only son.

"Another form then appeared, horrible to gaze on, of a fearful mien, on his forehead was written heresy, a book was in his hand, this book he offered to a young girl who eagerly seized it and placed it in her bosom, after which she was seen rushing with hasty steps along a dangerous road, at the end of which was a yawning gulf and a fiery precipice, but when she had reached the brink, and seemed about to be precipitated below, the same female form appeared, and snatched her from the impending ruin. The abbess adds the next scenes were most obscure; a carriage was seen rapidly rolling through a forest, till it stopped at a venerable monastery. Again the scene changed, and the same female was seen in a beautiful nunnery which arose on the spot where the pile of gold had formerly been; from her lips proceeded wisdom; her superior mind guided the whole establishment. Nuns and priests passed in rapid succession in this moving scene. Ravishing music fell on the ear, and Frances, heiress of Cleves, was pronounced most blest by voices of more than mortal sweetness."

"And does Frances," inquired Clara, when her cousin ceased speaking, "really believe all this has been seen by the abbess?”

"Why should she doubt it? Has she not been accustomed from childhood to believe in the reality of these extravagant visions? The lives of the saints, as she justly observed, abound with revelations more extraordinary in their character, and in Bede's "Church History" you will meet with similar visions vouchsafed to Saint Hilda and other holy men and women; it has long been her earnest ambition to imitate their holiness and to be similarly rewarded."

"Poor thing," said Clara, "I pity her delusions, but what has this letter in it that concerns me?"

"What! Clara, have you also taken farewell of your senses, or do you affect an ignorance and indifference you cannot feel? Are not you the young girl who received the book from the heretic Pierre ? though how Frances will proceed in her efforts to pluck you from ruin is more than I can imagine; one thing, however; is plain, there is a regular system of communication maintained between these priests and abbesses, in which all the family secrets obtained at the confessional are revealed; and though I smile at times at this absurd letter, yet I tremble at the misery you may be exposed to if you refuse to give up the Bible, which now from my heart I wish I had never given you."

"I do not wish it, Clarice, from the innermost recesses of my heart; I thank God you did, and I humbly pray He may grant me grace never to resign it; yes, I pray that I may be found among the number of the blessed ones who follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. But as far as this foolish letter concerns me, I feel no anxiety; Frances has it not in her power, even were she so disposed, to harm me; she may attempt my

conversion by arguments, persuasions, or reproaches, beyond these what power can she have over me? No, it is the anger of my father, the grief of my brother that I dread, these will form the bitter ingredients in the cup I am called on to drink."

"I feel for you, dear Clara, but forgive me if I say I feel still more concern for Frances. Father Adrian will never rest till he obtains her fortune and makes her a nun, and then it will matter little to him if she bewails through years of lingering wretchedness, the false enthusiasm that led her to take vows she bitterly and fruitlessly repents of. O Clara, a dark cloud overcasts my sky, and veils the sunny prospects I had formed for the future!

"The future, dear Clarice, is veiled in mercy both from you and me; but how inexpressibly sweet at this moment is the conviction that it will be directed by my heavenly Father, who has, I trust, pardoned my past unfaithfulness, and will strengthen me for future trials. Oh, my cousin, do not choose evil when you know the good-do not remain in darkness, believing it to be such-cast in your lot with me, make God your friend-His favour will repay the loss of all earthly comforts -you will then taste peace, whose calm repose shall form a striking contrast to the ceaseless reproaches of a stifled conscience, or the still more fatal lethargy of one whose voice is silent, indeed, but only because it is seared as with a hot iron."

Clarice shook her head mournfully. "I cannot, Clara, I will watch over you and dear Frances with unceasing vigilance, but I dare not avow my principles, I dread to rouse the anger of a Jesuit priest, the anathemas of the Romish Church."

"What do you suppose to have been Frances's motive in showing you the letter?"

"She gave me first of all the strictest charge (which love for you has led me to break) not to make you acquainted with its contents. I believe her motive was to do me good, and impress my mind with a solemn belief in this wonderful vision, which I dared not tell her is a concerted scheme between the abbess and Father Adrian, to work on her lively and exciteable imagination, and make her an easier tool for the accomplishment of their ambitious ends."

"But what can we think of those who would concert such plans? they must be only fit ministers of the father of lies. I cannot believe that Father Adrian, though he may be in error, can lend his sanction to such a system of iniquitous falsehood."

"You may know more of the Bible, Clara, but you know less of the doctrines of our Church than I do, if you do not know that the end sanctifies the means, and you will find the theory of pious frauds laid down in many of our devotional books; this is only theory practically developed, but I leave you to think over the contents of this letter, and be very cautious. I wish not to be seen much alone with you. Frances closely watches, and, I fear, suspects us both."

The longer Clara reflected over the vision revealed to Frances, the more inclined she felt to despise it as an absurd fiction, and altogether to reject the thought of its having any effect on her future prospects. Three weeks passed without any further notice being taken by Father Adrian of Clara or her sentiments; during this time Frances behaved

with uniform kindness, and so far won the affection of her unsuspecting, cousin, that she often wondered why she had ever regarded her as cold-hearted and unfeeling. At the expiration of this time Father Adrian again renewed his attacks, and in several lengthened conversations endeavoured to persuade Clara to submit to the authority of the Church, and give up the Bible. Clara, however, firmly refused, remarking at their last interview, that since she was only a visitor at Ardennes, and not one of Father Adrian's flock, he had surely discharged his duty in thus frequently warning her; the priest turned solemnly from her, saying, "Your blood be on your own head. I am clear; your ruin (which I have done all I can to prevent) rests with yourself." These words, which he spoke with considerable agitation, affected Clara more than anything that had yet passed.

But where is our hero? If our readers will patiently follow us, we will now leave Clara, and accompany him on his tour through Italy. The death of his friend Willoughby, and his own subsequent illness, had cast a gloom around Hubert's mind, not easily dispelled; nor was this gloom lessened by the assurance of his confessor, that mercy could not be extended to an incorrigible heretic, who had obstinately persisted in rejecting the truth when offered to him. Hubert had now long and anxiously studied the doctrines of his Church; he had done all he could to obtain peace of mind, but still he was not happy. To merit the favour of his Maker was the motive that led him to perform every good work, he had read the most spiritual divines of the Romish Church, yet none of these clearly pointed to the only day-star that could cheer the sinner's trembling heart,-they pointed not to the Son of God alone as having wrought out for His people by obedience to the law for them, a righteousness so perfect that it satisfied the demands of infinite justice,-they did not teach that fallen man was too weak and sinful even to attain to the standard of obedience God required,— nay, they even ventured to assert he might go beyond it, and being more holy, and performing more good works than was needful for his own salvation, his merits might be imputed to others less devoted. The pure standard of obedience contained in God's word, Hubert knew but in part, yet he knew enough (and his conscience aided him here) to convince him that he had never kept the whole law, and had even often fallen short of his best intentions. To atone for these omissions, he fasted, he gave alms, performed acts of penance, but these acts brought no peace to his conscience, they did not enable him to render obedience to the first and great command, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." No, and he felt this to be the case, for Hubert was sincere in his error, sincere in seeking after truth, with a simple determination to do the will of his Heavenly Father.

Often would he stand and gaze on the clear sky, when the moon shone in placid loveliness on a cloudless night, and the stars bespangled the firmament, and he would feel that the heavens declared the glory of God, and his heart would glow with momentary devotion, but when from these soothing contemplations he turned his thoughts to earth, to man, to himself; when he remembered he had offended his Maker, a holy being who hated sin with perfect hatred; when he thought of the