speaking of the absurd ceremonies which take place on Good Friday, says:-" Such is the strange mixture of superstition and profaneness in the people, that though any attempt to expose the indecency of these shows would rouse their zeal to the knife,' I cannot venture to translate the jokes and sallies of wit that are frequently heard among the Spanish peasantry upon these sacred topics.' "The like strange mixture," observes the Archbishop, "is found in other Roman Catholic countries."* This may seem a curious anomaly; but the truth is, that superstition has so darkened and degraded the minds of these Romanists, that they have lost all rational and sincere belief in, and consequently all veneration for, the spiritual Deity of the Scriptures. Their religion is no better than heathenismprecisely upon a level with that of the Hindoos, who are said to revile their gods in the grossest terms upon the occasion of any untoward event. They are in truth infidels, and Popery has made them so.

Such is the result of Roman Catholicism in Spain. With respect to that of England, and its connection with unbelief, we may find an illustration nearer home. Well might Bishop Wilberforce, in the very cathedral of Christ Church, denounce the recent defaulters to Popery as "having been borne on the wings of an unbounded scepticism into the bosom of an unfathomable superstition." He might have continued the chain of cause and effect still farther, but he has said enough to mark the relationship. With respect to the secession of Mr. Newman, however, it has been with still more point and accuracy observed, that "in his plunge into infidelity, he caught at Romanism.” Nay, Mr. Newman himself tells us, that between Popery and infidelity is the only choice-indicating thereby that with him it was a question which to choose. This is tolerably explicit. But it is painful thus to allude to individuals in connection with such sad declension. It is with the party, or

*Errors of Romanism, p. 41. † Bishop of Oxford's Ordination Sermon, 1845.

rather the system and spirit of the party, that we have to contend. Such, in fact, is ever the march of unbelief. It is thus that the God of this world "blinds the minds of all them that believe not." He does not at first disclose the depths to which he intends to conduct them. He leads them onward step by step, taking care that, like Bunyan's "By-PathMeadow," the way to "Doubting Castle" and "Giant Despair," shall, at the outset, appear to lie along by the high-way side, and to be easy and promising. To the younger followers of Mr. Newman, as well as to himself, Popery is, in many cases, but a catchhold in their plunge into infidelity. Scepticism, arising from impatience of the toilsome, but safe high-way of humility, faith, and holiness, has brought them to the brink, and for a moment they pause and hesitate, scared perhaps by the appalling darkness of the gulf beneath. But, unless by divine grace arrested, their ultimate fate is almost certain. "Rome is no place for such men to take their rest, unless they can be content to sleep upon a bed of thorns." Theirs, be it remembered, is not the Popery of former times— of a Fenelon or a Pascal, a More or a Fisher-but something vastly more corrupt and degraded: a sort of "baptized heathenism"-the neology of Strauss tricked off with the mummery of Treves. It cannot be a faith founded on rational conviction. deed when we see such pleas as that of mere Catholic consent formally put forth as the sole basis of the Gospel, of revealed religion, and that by men of acknowledged acuteness, "it is impossible to believe them blind to the obvious inference, that Christianity itself, in their estimation, is no better than the religion of human infirmity-the fond invention of popular superstition."

In

Rome, indeed, is with them the high road to Germany, or worse, if worse can be, to France. Superstition leads to infidelity in some of its milder forms at first, and ultimately,

if

grace prevent not, to atheism. And

I allude to the Mathematical School of Comté.

is there repose there for the troubled wandering spirit? Alas! no-and what is worse, there is small hope of recovery. The proverb, that "when things are at the worst, they begin to mend," can seldom apply in this case. Destructive indeed, almost hopelessly so, are these depths of Satan. Let us hope and pray that the two hundred and fifty clergymen and laymen, who, it is said, have become converts to Romanism in these latter days, may be enabled to discern in time the perils of the path upon which they have entered; and that, being recovered from the fearful delusion, they may devote their future lives to warning others against a like departure from the only true and living

way.

Let it not be imagined from any. thing that has been hitherto said, that I would make light of Romish superstition considered merely in itself. Quite the reverse. My aim has been rather to increase our wholesome dread of it, by endeavouring to shew that it contains other elements of evil besides those generally attributed to it, and which, if they be the less obvious, are on that very account the more dangerous; and therefore it is that I am anxious to point out its alliance with errors of an opposite and still more fatal character. In short, I would gladly convince of their wretched mistake those who are expecting to find in the bosom of a supposed infallible Church (whether at Oxford or Rome it matters little, or what the degree of infallibility,) that refuge from doubt and perplexity that rest of soul, which can only be obtained by a diligent study of the Bible, a humble reliance on Divine teaching, and a patient perseverance in well-doing. With this object in view, it was my intention to have traced more particularly in this communication, some of the chief points of resemblance which are, upon examination, very discernible between the Romanism of the Oxford school, and unbelief in some of its various forms; in the hope that some deluded wanderer in either of these two opposite bye-paths might perchance be arrested at the outset of his career, when made aware of the real direction

of the track upon which he has entered; and when he has discovered their common origin, their kindred spirit, and the fatal termination which awaits them both. Having, however, already occupied so large a portion of your pages, I must not, for the present trespass further upon them, but may perhaps, with your permission, hereafter return to the subject.

In conclusion, let it be observed, that the foregoing observations are not intended to encourage despondency, or to foster a complaining spirit, but to quicken to diligence. Neither from superstition, nor infidelity, has the Church anything to fear, if she be faithful to her God, and true to her own interests; for, if so, the promise is sure that "the gates of hell shall not prevail against her." If many have proved false to her, many still continue faithful. If the present has been properly characterized as an age "destitute of faith," it has with equal justice been described as "dreading scepticism," or at least the avowal of it. Our duty as Protestant Christians, at all events, is plain. It is clear that the grand question is the absolute supremacy of Scripture. Let this be firmly established, and then neither superstition nor unbelief can for a moment maintain their ground. If her authority be supreme, Rome must yield-if the evidences of her inspiration are undeniably established, infidelity must disappear as night be fore the rising sun. Let every effort be directed to this to prove the exclusiveness of the evidence for Scripture as the word of God; to shew that it stands alone and distinct from all other writings and traditions of antiquity, and that the difference is one, not merely of degree, but of kind. But above all, let each individual Christian aim to realize in his own experience and conduct the life and walk of faith, and to be in himself a living witness (a proof by fact) of the truth, and the blessedness of the religion which he professes.

With respect to the unhappy controversy between the Tractarians and the Evangelicals, as rival parties in the English Church; the question is simply one of consistency. It is plain that both cannot be equally entitled

to the privileges of membership within her pale. Let neither therefore shrink from a searching inquiry into the legitimacy of their title. Until this be more clearly ascertained, the expedient of expulsion proposed by the Record newspaper, (Mr. Gresley I think stops short of this,) would be equally premature and ungracious. No, let all bitterness be put away on both sides; let the question be deliberately and dispassionately argued, and in due time it will appear who are the consistent churchmen. We need not, it is to be hoped, fear for

the result. Should our position, however, prove eventually untenable; should it appear that Anglo-Romish error is materially sanctioned by our Church, then will be the time to attempt a Reformation; with what success it is not for us to predict. The cause is in the hands of the Almighty. But at all events, should this even prove unattainable, there still remains, as a last resource, an honourable separation, and a sacrifice, if need be, of worldly interest for conscience sake.

X.

OUR first anxiety on reaching Geneva was to receive tidings from home; having felt it something of a drawback to our high enjoyment, to have been more than three weeks without this comfort. We found nearly a pound's worth of letters and newspapers awaiting us; and spoiled as we are by the luxury of the penny postage, never did I pay a heavy sum on such an occasion with more satisfaction. I felt it to be a special mercy, that nothing had occurred to render it a matter of increased anxiety to be progressing further from home. How easily amidst the changes and uncertainties of human life, and especially in my peculiar position in regard to my large family of schools, &c., might it have been otherwise!

We found nothing worthy of interest in Geneva, beyond the recollections and associations of its former days. We passed some time in the evening in a bookseller's shop, where we added largely to our collection of prints, our object being thus to illustrate all the prominent objects of our tour. And in this we have succeeded at a very moderate expense. Excepting Freyburg, I do not think we have failed to bring home with us a view of every point of interest, for a sum not exceeding, I think, sixty francs.

Sunday morning the 27th dawned upon us auspiciously. It was a lovely, splendid day, which always seems to give a glow to one's feelings on the Sabbath, as emblematic of that sun of mercy and blessing, which specially shines from heaven on this holy day on the Church of the faithful. Moreover we had to us a new privilege, in being permitted to look forward to our English service. But how often in this uncertain world do one's feelings become suddenly and unexpectedly saddened, and all that was joyous and buoyant becomes dark and clouded! I had got into conversation at breakfast with a lady, who asked me if I had heard of the dreadful accident at Tavannes. replied that we had heard something of a fire in the hotel, and of several

I

lives being lost, but had had no particulars. Finding that some English were amongst the sufferers, I felt naturally anxious to know the names, and I could not help suddenly exclaiming "I hope some friends of mine, who I know were travelling about that time in that direction, were not there." The lady could not call to mind the names, but stated that if I could mention them, she should at once recognize them. Alas! I soon discovered that my conjecture was but too well-founded. My friends were not amongst the six who had perished in the flames, but my dear friend Mr. L- was then lingering in a hopeless state. My first impression was to hasten to the scene of sorrow and suffering, but the lady gave me a letter which she had received that morning from the chaplain at Berne, who had been over to Tavannes to see the poor sufferers the day before, Thursday; and from his statement it was evident that my poor friend could not then be in a state to receive any aid from me (mortification having taken place), neither was there the least probability that I should find him alive. I felt too that the hurry and excitement of a journey of eighty miles or more, under such anxious circumstances, was such as my state of health scarcely warranted. But every feeling seemed to be almost swallowed up in the consideration of God's sparing and preserving mercy to myself; for in the different plans that were contemplated for going abroad, the first that was thought of was that of my accompanying this very party; and it was only abandoned from Mrs. L.'s illness in passing through London, which detained her there, and prevented her going with the party; and she felt that as Mr. L- was going as an invalid, it would not do to superadd another in her absence. Had it not been for this circumstance, I might have been involved in that fearful calamity, which proved fatal to seven persons, and seriously injured seven others. It was impossible not to feel almost overwhelmed

in the contemplation of such a providential escape. I hastened after breakfast to the English chaplain, and after relating to him the melancholy history, requested him to return special thanks in the morning service, on behalf of one who had received great mercies at the hands of God. He referred to the subject in his sermon, and in the afternoon I preached from the text in the 90th Psalm, "So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." Mr. Timperley, the chaplain at Berne, had been most kind in going over frequently to Tavannes, (about fourteen miles.) He stated that nothing could exceed the touching interest of the scene. The whole seven, who were in bed amidst great suffering, had not a word of murmuring or impatience to utter. All were dwelling exclusively on their mercies; and as for my dear dying friend, when some one was regretting the loss of his money, &c., Ah!" he replied, "that is of no moment I must very soon have left all-but to have the soul safe, that is everything."

I cannot help mentioning the extreme kindness, which the sufferers met with from the inhabitants. One of the party, writing on this subject, says:

"I have passed through awful scenes indeed since last we metscenes which I can now scarcely venture to think upon-but God was merciful, most merciful to us all. He did not forsake us in the hour of deepest distress, and suffering, and destitution, raising us up tender sympathizing friends both among our own countrymen, and among strangers. We were naked and they clothed us, sick and they visited us, sorrowful and they wept with us-destitute of everything in a foreign land, and they supplied all our wants with a liberality which I trust never to forget."

Conjecture was, of course, largely afloat as to the cause of the disaster. Tavannes is a convenient distance between Basle and Berne, and the hotel was much frequented, especially for the night. It was quite full that night; and some imagined that the

calamity was occasioned by a fire which an English party would have in a bed-room; others, by a drinking party; but the generally believed opinion was that it was the act of an incendiary, in order to gain a large sum of money which the innkeeper was known to have in the house. This was the more readily believed from the fact, that none of the money was afterwards discovered either melted or entire.

After our one o'clock dinner, we went to the afternoon service, and in the evening to the church, which M. D'Aubignè has been chiefly instrumental in establishing. There was a good congregation, and the singing was more exquisitely chaste, devotional, and beautiful than any thing I almost ever heard in a church. My new friend, Miss W., stated that the sermon was excellent, containing a sound and full development of the Gospel, enforced and brought home by an earnest and affectionate appeal to the heart and conscience.

I had previously gone to the top of the L'Ecu to see the sun-set. The view was magnificent. Mont Blanc and the range of the snowy Alps, as clear and distinct as possible, were beautifully enriched with the pink tints of the declining sun, and altogether the scene was indescribably grand.

The next morning we took a voiture and were off for Chamouny, about fifty English miles-the weather as fine as we could wish. We took the necessary step of having our passports revise by the Sardinian consul at Geneva, and on passing the Sardinian frontier, a few miles on our way, our vehicle was slightly examined at the station of the douanier. The Mole, a sugar-loaf mountain, nearly 6000 feet in height, is a prominent and interesting object. În about four hours

we came to Bonneville, a small town containing about 1300 inhabitants, where we staid some time to bait our horse. It was too early to take any refreshment, so we waited till we got to the little town of Cluses, where we had the pleasure of paying a franc and a half a-piece, for some bread and butter and milk in a filthy, miserable inn. We had not time, however, to