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the ear, and after that the full corn in the ear. .... |specting the election of an archbishop of York, In addition to the actual conversion of a goodly number of natives, missions in India, in preparing the way for numerous conversions hereafter, have spread a large amount of Christian knowledge throughout the country, and have produced deep impressions upon the native mind, both in relation to the follies of Hindooism and the truth of the bible Is the country the same as it was fifty years ago? Far from it. The knowledge which they (missions) have spread has sunk among the community, and is working, like leaven, in silence, but with certainty. .... Many have been led to acknowledge that this system must decay, and Christianity triumph. And a conviction, more or less deep, that Christianity will destroy caste and idolatry, has entered thousands of minds" (Results of Missionary Labour in India. W. H. Dalton. London, 1852).

H. S.

HOW SHOULD PROTESTANTS MEET THE
AGGRESSION OF ROMANISTS?
BY THE REV. S. HOBSON, LL.B.,

Incumbent of Butley, Suffolk.

THE TRIAL OF THE CARDINAL.
No. XII.

Address of Counsel for the Defence. GENTLEMEN,-It must have struck you, as it did myself, that the learned counsel, instead of denying the historical facts which I brought forward in favour of the pope's supremacy, has been merely declaiming against them. He could not get rid of them, and therefore he thought it better to suggest that such a state of things ought not to have existed. Now, this is precisely the course which infidels and other enemies of the catholic church pursue. Being unable to prove that the apostolic see, together with all its prerogatives, was not of divine origin, because they find the fact of its existence ever since the time of St. Peter to be unquestionable, they declaim against the abuses which may have crept in, and then very unreasonably conclude that, because there have been heresies, therefore it could not have been of divine institution. My learned friend has endeavoured to draw your attention from the real question, viz., the existence of papal supremacy over this realm from time immemorial, and to prevent you from contemplating the uninterrupted chain of evidence which I have brought forward. His severe and unjust remarks on the holy apostolic sce and its principles shall not divert me from the course which I am pursuing. I will lay before you the whole evidence from history; and then, perhaps, I may notice the learned counsel's accusations.

I have already traced the exercise of the pope's supremacy in this kingdom from the time of Henry VIII. up to the reign of Henry II. I will now proceed. In the reign of Henry's predecessor, Stephen, we find the same unhesitating obedience paid to the holy see, and that all ecclesiastical causes of importance were decided at Rome. When a dispute had arisen re

the rival candidates never thought of appealing to
any court in England, but applied to the so-
vereign pontiff, as the only supreme arbiter in
such cases. And, when Stephen had been guilty
of a most tyrannical act against three of the
bishops, his own brother, as legate and represen-
tative of the pope in England, summoned the
king before a national council to answer for his
conduct. Would he have ventured upon such a
proceeding had not the king, as well as the nation
generally, been fully satisfied that the pope was
the only supreme judge on earth of all eccle-
siastical matters? In the year 1138, Innocent
II. exercised his supremacy in a way that none
could mistake. He suspended Henry, bishop of
Winchester, the king's brother, and sent the
bishop of Ostia into England as his legate. A
national synod was then called at Westminster;
and in that council, by the sole authority of the
holy see, sixteen canons were promulgated. The
legate next proceeded to show the power of his
master, the pope, in the election of an archbishop
of Canterbury; for by the legate's influence Theo-
bald, abbot of Bec, in Normandy, was chosen to
the primacy*. During the reign also of Stephen's
predecessor, Henry I., a legate exercised supreme
power and authority in ecclesiastical matters by
virtue of the pope's mandate. This was cardinal
De Crema, whom pope Honorius authorized to be
his legate in England and Scotland. He, con-
sequently, presided over a national council held
at Westminster, A.D. 1126, and there pro-
mulgated seventeen canons in the name and by the
authority of the pope. Now, as this council was
attended by the two archbishops, forty abbots,
and a large company of clergy and laity, it may
be considered a national recognition of the pope's
supremacy. It is allowed that Henry made se
veral attempts to encroach on the spiritual su
premacy of the pope; but this only proves that
kings are fond of power, and that sometimes they
have no hesitation to wrest it from those to wh
it belongs by divine right. He had a long quarr
with archbishop Anselm about doing homage to
him for the temporalities of his see, and also re-
specting the right of investiture. But the king
was obliged to waive his claim to investitures, al-
though his holiness was pleased to allow homage
to be done to the king for the temporalities
bishoprics. As to William Rufus, he was n
over-scrupulous, and therefore could hardly be ex-
pected to pay much respect even to the holy
father; and yet he wrote to pope Urban, and al-
lowed him to confer the see of Canterbury on
whomsoever his holiness pleased. William the
Conqueror, who obtained the crown of England
by violence, could not, of course, be expected to
feel much veneration for the successors of St
Peter, whose duty is to restrain the pride and am-
bition of princes, and to teach them to promote
peace and good will amongst all men; but even
the Conqueror so far submitted himself to the apos-
tolic see as to send the annnal tribute called Peter-
pence to the pope. He was desirous of rewarding
the ecclesiastics who had followed him to Eug
land, by distributing among them the benefices of
the English clergy; but, powerful as he was, he
could not effect his purpose without the assistance
* Henry's Hist. Eng., vol. v. p. 321.

of the pope he therefore requested that a legate should be sent into the kingdom to regulate the affairs of the church; and he thus unequivocally acknowledged the supremacy of his holiness. With respect to the period before the Norman conquest, it was a time of so much trouble and perplexity, owing to the continual incursions of enemies, that very little attention seems to have been paid to ecclesiastical matters; and, therefore, we need not wonder that history is nearly silent respecting the pope's supremacy; but enough may be gleaned out of the scanty annals of that gloomy period to prove that St. Peter's successor was universally regarded as the centre of unity, the object to whom all men paid the deepest veneration. So anxious were men to show their respect for the pope, that it is stated the roads between England and Rome were crowded with pilgrims of all degrees, kings and nobles, as well as the commonalty; so that the very tolls collected of the pilgrims to the holy see in the territories through which they passed were a matter of importance to the respective princes who ruled over them. We find also that a number of canons was passed in the reign of king Edgar, one of which clearly recognizes the supremacy of the pope, since it commands the people to pay the tribute denominated Peter-pence regularly at Lammas Day. But, perhaps, nothing can more strikingly show how devoted the nation was to the pope, and how implicitly the British church followed the directions of their supreme head, than the determination of the people to maintain that holy celibacy of the clergy which the popes have ever recommended. In the time of king Edmund a council was held by command of the pope, A.D. 944, which passed, amongst other canons, one in favour of clerical celibacy. At a still earlier period, viz., A.D. 905, we have a clear proof that papal supremacy was exercised over this island, in the fact that pope Formosus excommunicated king Edward the Elder, son of Alfred, and laid his kingdom under an interdict. Ethelwolf, it is related, went to pay homage at the foot of St. Peter's chair in the year 854, when his kingdom was in danger from foreign invaders. It is also stated that Athelard, archbishop of Canterbury, went to Rome A.D. 801, in order to procure the consent of the pope to the re-union of the province of Lichfield with that of Canterbury. And it was by the pope's authority that Athelard summoned a council to meet at Cloveshoos, A.D. 803. In that council he promulgated the papal decree, by which the see of Canterbury was restored to all its ancient rights; and also another decree, by which the pope forbade lay men to be admitted to the government of monasteriest. Does not this unquestionable fact prove that his holiness possessed supreme jurisdiction over Britain at that remote period? The grant which king Offa made to the pope of three hundred and sixty-five mancusses, as a tribute from his kingdom, was, of course, an acknowledgement of the supremacy of his holiness. At another time the pope sent three legates into England, when Lambert was archbishop of Canterbury; and by his own authority he made several alterations in the church, and remodelled the dioceses in the several kingdoms of

*Henry's Hist. Eng., vol. iii. p. 248. † Ibid., p. 249.

the island; in fact, his holiness did much the same thing which his successor, the present pope, has been pleased to do, in virtue of his spiritual supremacy. He erected Lichfield into an archbishopric, A.D. 787, just as Pius IX. has erected Westminster into an archbishopric at the present time. Let me direct your attention to the year 705. when a famous council was held in Yorkshire, In this council was read a copy of the pope's sentence in favour of Wilfred, who had been illegally deposed from his bishopric; and, in obedience to the papal mandate, Wilfred was made bishop of Hexham, and permitted to hold with it the abbey of Ripon*. In the year 680 the pope sent a legate into England to see whether the English church was tainted with the heresy of the Monothelites; and by his order a council was called, and a confession of faith drawn up by the bishops, and submitted to the legate. But previous to this time we find a still more unequivocal exercise of papal supremacy in Britain. Wighart had been sent by Oswi, king of Northumberland, and Egbert, king of Kent, to be consecrated by the pope archbishop of Canterbury; but he died of the plague while he was at Rome. Upon this the pope chose Theodore, a native of Cilicia, to be archbishop, and sent him to England with this title, A. D. 668. He was not only accepted by the pope's spiritual subjects in England, but his efforts were seconded by the other prelates and clergy; so that he was enabled to bring the English church to a strict conformity with that of Rome. Auricular confession, which had been greatly neglected, was now revived by him. In the year 610, Melletus, first bishop of London, went to Rome, that he might obtain directions and regulations for his diocese from Boniface IV.

But we now come, gentlemen, to a most important period in the history of this country-I mean that in which the Saxons were converted to Christianity through the pious and zealous labours of Austin. St. Gregory sent this holy monk to England, A. D. 596, and in a few years he was so successful, and had brought such multitudes to embrace the true faith, that it was deemed necessary to appoint an archbishop over them. Austin was accordingly consecrated to that high office; and the pope sent him, together with the pall as metropolitan, a model for the government of the church of England. As to earlier times, history is mingled with so many fables that I should be sorry to adduce as evidence any thing recorded in the annals of this country during the first four centuries after the crucifixion of our blessed Lord; but there can be little doubt that Christians in this island, no less than in other countries, were always in subjection to the pope in spiritual matters; especially as there is strong ground for believing that St. Peter himself introduced the Christian religion into this country. And, if this were the case the British church would, of course, acknowledge his supremacy, and continue obedient to his successors in the apostolic see.

Having now shown that the supremacy of the pope over this realm can be traced from the time of Henry VIII. up to the conversion of the Saxons by Austin, and the probability there is that it was first exercised in this country by St. Peter himself, I cannot but think, gentlemen, * Henry's Hist. Eng., vol. iii,, p. 221.

that you will feel astonished at the language used towards the holy father on account of his recent exercise of this supremacy. Why should he be called insolent, presumptuous, and arrogant? Can a man be justly so denominated because he claims what is unquestionably a divine and inalienable right? What although this claim was rejected by the impious Henry VIII. and assumed by himself, did that wicked and tyrannical act render the pope's title null and void? Surely no one will maintain such a monstrous doctrine. It is plain that the people generally, under the reign of that abandoned monarch, did did not acknowledge his supremacy; for, on the accession of queen Mary, how readily and joyfully did they return to their allegiance to their spiritual and holy father! Even the highest persons in the realm-the nobles and members of parliament-humbly and penitently acknowledged their sin in yielding, even outwardly, to Henry's impious and arrogant assumption of this sacred right, and on their knees solicited to be again admitted to the bosom and governance of their holy mother, the catholic church. And, although, after the accession of queen Elizabeth, the people were intimidated from confessing the pope's supremacy by heavy and cruel penalties, there is no doubt that millions secretly acknowledged it. Those times of persecution are gone, it is to be hoped, for ever. The present generation has made such progress in knowledge and liberality, that all the chains and fetters which bigotry had forged, and tyranny had riveted on the subjects of his holiness in this empire, are snapped asunder; and the pope can now legally exercise in this realm the supremacy to which he has always been entitled. And I am sanguine enough to hope and believe that the glorious time is fast approaching when the senators of this united kingdom, nobles and commoners, yea, and also their beloved sovereign, will, in full parliament assembled, fall on their knees before the legate of St. Peter's successor, and humbly beg to be restored to the bosom of the catholic church, out of which there is no salvation.

But enough has been adduced to prove that the power exercised in this country by his holiness is not that arrogant usurped jurisdiction which so many persons now slanderously assert it to be. It is a supremacy which has been acknowledged from time immemorial, and therefore it cannot be repugnant to the common law. It is, however, said that by the exercise of this spiritual supremacy the pope ignores and invades the queen's prerogative. I totally deny this. The pope's authority extends only to his own subjects, and to them merely in spiritual things. His holiness does not pretend to interfere in temporal concerns. Her majesty is allowed by all catholics in this empire to be supreme in temporal matters; but in ecclesiastical things they cannot acknowledge that she has, or ought to have, any jurisdiction. Catholics never allowed their sovereigns to have this power even in the darksome days of persecution, when the rack and the gibbet were used to compel our forefathers to acknowledge the royal supremacy. But they know how to render temporal obedience in things temporal to their earthly sovereign, and spiritual obedience in things spiritual to God and

his vicegerent. I am fully borne out, in making this assertion, by the conduct and behaviour of English catholics for the last three hundred years. And, therefore, I confidently aver that this act of his holiness leaves untouched every tittle of her majesty's rights, authority, power, and jurisdiction, as our sovereign; and that there exists no class who more solemnly, more continually, or more fervently, pray for the stability of her majesty's life and the prosperity of her majesty's empire than the catholics of England. How absurd, then, I repeat, is this outcry against an organization which is perfectly spiritual, and affects only the pope's subjects in this realm. If the Wesleyan conference were to divide England into new circuits, we should hear of no remonstrances. When the Free Kirk Session, in Scotland, set up presbyteries, in opposition to those of the establishment, we heard of no one invoking the interference of the secular power. Why, then, is such an outcry raised at this act of the catholic church? Is she alone to be excepted from the general toleration, or the general indifference? What is this but a tacit acknowledgment, on the part of protestants, that their only argument, after all, is force; and that, when the catholic church comes before them with no other weapons but those of sound reason and common sense, the advocates of the unlimited right of private judgment have no reply but a significant point to the statute-book? Gentlemen of the jury, I am persuaded that you will not allow such unworthy means to be used to check the progress of truth. I am confident that you will return such a verdict as will destroy the hopes of bigotry, and show the people of England that religion is neither to be propagated nor put down by human lawst.

THE RESCUE FROM DEATH+.

A Low wooden paling, with a gate in it, divided the church-yard from the rugged hill. The moon was shining; and when the clock had struck eleven Dreux began to get so impatient of Allerton's protracted absence that he resolved to climb the hill and try to find his way out into the town. At first he got on very well; but presently he came to a gravelly ascent, partially covered with trees, and so steep that he could not climb it without the help of his hands among the bushes. Though the moon had gone in, and it had become perfectly dark, he was still thinking of forcing his way up the ascent, when he heard a door at some distance behind him creak heavily, and immediately made the best of his way towards the sound.

To his mortification, the vestry-door was closed. He shook the lock with right good-will, but could not stir it; but, as the lamp was burning, he fancied the wind must have blown it to; and, if so, Allerton might yet return.

* See address to the queen by the English Romanists, 1850.

† See letter to the earl of Shrewsbury, by Ambrose Lisle Phillips, esq., Nov., 1850.

London: Wertheim and Co. 1851. From "Allerton and Dreux; or, the War of Opinion." noticed this book: the extract we have given above will We have already afford our readers some idea of the author's power of descrip tion.-ED.

Still, it was wearisome and dispiriting to walk there alone. He wandered about, but could find no outlet; and at length tried the rugged, thorndotted bill again. He dashed about blindly for some time among the trees, but could not reach the boundary line, nor see any path; the little light scarcely serving to mark the different hues of grass and gravel. His progress was slow: sometimes he came to a rock, and had to go round it before he could ascend again. At last he came to a smooth, open space, where the grass grew short. The ascent was as steep as ever; but he set off at a quick pace, for he did not at all like his posi tion: he might be trespassing for anything he knew. On a sudden he heard steps behind him, as of a man rushing up after him. He quickened his pace; and the man called out to him to stop, and the next instant had seized him by the arm. The ascent was so steep that he had greatly the advantage of his assailant, who was so out of breath with running that he could not speak, but closed with him, and was evidently trying to throw him down. It was but the work of an instant to throw him off violently: the impetus sent him running down many degrees faster than he came up. Before an instant had passed he heard another man rushing up towards him. He did not relish the idea of there being two against him and ran up the precipitous hill, trying to distance this new pursuer, and determining, if possible, not to close with him till they came to open ground. Violent as his exertions were, they availed him nothing; for the man running after him redoubled his own, and ran as if his life depended upon it. The moon was gone in; he did not know the ground: the man was close behind him, crashing down dead boughs, and displacing the heavy loose stones in his reckless race. He was close at his heels, and would have him instantly. He seemed trying to speak, and was panting violently, when Dreux, trying to repeat his last experiment, turned upon him, and seizing him suddenly, wrestled with him with all his strength.

could feel no footing. He found that the man (who seemed to be in a kneeling position somewhat above him) was grasping him round the chest, and that, if this support was withdrawn, he must inevitably fall over.

It was intensely dark; but he was conscious of a rushing, booming sound far beneath him. The next instant the man said, in a hurried, faint whisper, "I am no enemy: don't move; don't stir a muscle, if you value my life or your own.' Low as the voice was, it was too familiar to be mistaken. He heard it with a start, which placed his life in additional peril. This man was

Allerton.

His first impulse was to make himself known: the next instant he remembered the imprudence of such a step.

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"Now listen to me," Allerton procceded, more calmly, for he had taken breath; do you see that cleft of the sky between the clouds ?"

He answered, in a whisper, "Yes." "In less than ten minutes," proceeded Allerton, "the moon will reach it; and we shall have an interval of light. "Don't attempt to move till then I can easily hold you while you are still till light comes we must rest." He paused a moment, and then went on : "You are a stranger here, or you would not have climbed this hill in the dark. I tried to stop you-could not speak for want of breath-keep still, I charge you. If I know where we are, I only want light to get you up safely."

But this cliff, this precipice-the sea”— 'Yes, the sea rolls at its base. If you struggle to help yourself you are lost-we are both lost; but, if you can be still, perfectly passive, I trust in God that I can lift you by main strength on to my ridge, without overbalancing."

"And if you should fail?"

"If I should fail! Don't think of that now; don't look over-don't for your life look over; there are still a few minutes left for prayer: call upon God."

Both their hats had fallen off in the struggle; and the troubled water was tossing them about below.

The moon drew near the edge of the cloud; and He was a powerful man; but his assailant was they had a full view of their fearful position. Bea match for him, though both were so completely neath them was the sea, with the face of the preout of breath with running that to speak was im- cipice shelving almost sheer down to it. Allerton possible. Dreux struck the man several times, felt a shiver run through the frame of the supand struggled desperately. The man tried to posed stranger, and charged him once more to be pinion his arms: he strove to speak and to stop quiet. He was becoming faint and sick, but had him; and when he found he could not (for Dreux strength of nerve to obey. The ledge on which continued to drag himself further up) he next he was lying was too narrow to admit of his turnattempted to throw him down, and, not succeed-ing: he was held on by the strength of Allerton's ing, flung himself on his knees, and by his weight arms, who himself was kneeling on a broader brought his assailant down also. He recovered space, two feet higher up. breath as they fell, to cry out frantically, "Stop, stop! O my God! the cliff, the cliff!" He held tightly by Dreux, whose foot slipped; and the two, still struggling, rolled over the edge of a descent of about four feet, and so steep that, when the latter recovered from a short giddiness which had seized him, he was astonished to find himself unburt. The man, as they fell over together, bad uttered a cry of indescribable horror. The word "precipice" suggested itself to his bewildered brain; he heard an injunction to be quiet; and, as he became more collected, he found himself supported, in a half-upright position, on a very narrow ledge of rock. He rested on one elbow; but his feet were hanging over, and he

"Now," cried Allerton, "dare, if possible, to be passive. I hold you: try if you can find any footing at all; take time."

"No," was the reply: "I can find none."
"Can you draw one foot up on to the ledge?"
"Impossible."

"The instant I begin to raise you, draw a long breath. Now!"

The moon was fully out. Allerton slightly changed his position, unclasped his hand, seized his companion by the wrist, and with a mighty effort raised him about a foot. Happily Dreux

disobeyed his injunctions, and dared to help him self. He was no sooner half erect than he found footing, which lightened Allerton's task, and gave him time to breathe: this was a timely rest, and he gathered coolness and the confidence which was beginning to waver: then with one more effort he dragged him on to the upper ledge, where they rested in comparative safety.

It was easy to climb the small descent down which they had rolled. They had scarcely accomplished it when the moon went behind the cloud again, and they were left in total darkness.

"Now, we must wait a while," said Allerton; and he threw himself into the long grass, almost overpowered with his exertions.

He

The man whom he had saved came up and wrung his hand, but did not speak. Allerton supposed him to be some artist or tourist, for many such visited that romantic neighbourhood. The momentary glimpse he had had of his appearance had assured him that he occupied the station of a gentleman; and, feeling a strong interest in him, he resolved to ask him home to his house for the night. The church clock struck again; and just then the moon emerged from the cloud, and Allerton sprang up and exclaimed, "Come here, and let us look at the danger we have passed." took him by the arm and brought him to the brink of the cliff, holding him while he suffered him to look over. Still the stranger said nothing, but looked down, down into the seething water, shuddered, and pressed his hand. Allerton, who was moved himself, spoke to him of the goodness of God in having preserved their lives, and reminded him of the fact that in imminent danger there is no possible rest for the human mind but in calling upon God. Even in that doubtful light, Dreux wondered that he did not recognize him; but, being touched by his goodness, and by the danger they had passed through, he remained silent, and shrunk from making himself known. Allerton then went on to speak of the happiness of those whose hearts are in a state of preparation for death, and added a few words on the way of salvation and acceptance with God. Allerton thought he listened attentively; but, the moon just then coming out more fully, he was obliged to turn his thoughts in another direction. "Now, then," he exclaimed, with his natural quickness, "I am going to take you down by a still steeper way than you came up, but there are flights of steps. You must follow me, and that quickly; for I don't know the place very well, and want to get down while there is light."

They ran down quickly; and, this way being much shorter, they were soon by the vestry-door it was opened by a man to whom Allerton stopped to speak, while Dreux looked on. "This is the gentleman," he heard him say: "he is quite safe." The man muttered something about people not liking to be flung down by those they meant to serve. Allerton laughed: the man spoke in the country dialect; and Dreux did not then remember that more than one man had tried to stop him.

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"All the hopes of unbelievers are in this life, and from the enjoyment of it. When these are onct past, they will be eternally, and in all things, mise rable-miserable beyond our expression or their apprehension. And what is this life? what are its enjoyments? Dying, perishing things. Surely the contentment that dying man can tak in dying things is very contemptible. The eter misery of men will not be in the least eased, y it will be greatened, by the enjoyments of this le when once it hath devoured them. And this is the portion of them that have no interest in the eter nity and immutability of the Son of God. The present frailty makes them continually fear eter nity; and their fear of eternity embitters all thing that they should use for the relief of their frailty

Ó, let us use the world, but live in Christ Then shall we live for ever on that which we no live upon; being present with him, beholding h glory, and made partakers of it. So that, bo satisfaction for believers, laid up in the excellen here and hereafter, there is relief, comfort, cies of the person of Jesus Christ.”

"Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou, who changest not, abide with me!
I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's powe
Who like thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O, abide with m
Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes:
Shine through the gloom, and point me to

skies;

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