(P.21.) everywhere throughout this collection of prayers there are similar allusions to this sacrifice-the real body, real blood, and real presence. There is a special prayer addressed to "Jesus lying on the Altar," there is then a reply entitled "The Voice of Jesus from the Altar," and finally another, called, "The voice of Jesus from the Altar." Also, as the prayer of consecration is about to commence the congregation is directed to

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Now, kneel upright, with your hands clasped upon your breasts; follow the priest in silent awe; for Jesus, thy God, is very nigh thee. He is about to descend on the altar, surrounded by the fire of the Holy Ghost, and attended by His angels.'

The following are additional instances of a similar character:

"And now, O Jesus, thou art really coming to visit us. Thou art really coming to Thy altar. Thou art really going to be offered up in sacrifice to the Father.

"Now, O my soul, see how the heavens are opening; how the angels of God are descending upon our altar and surrounding it. See how they are bending and prostrating themselves before it; for they know that Jesus is about to come upon our altar and make it His throne.

"Eternal Father, we offer unto thee this Almighty, Immaculate, and Adorable Sacrifice. Behold the Almighty Victim lying there."

As to the Real Presence and the Sacrifice of the Mass, these instances will be sufficient to convince even the most sceptical person of the tendency of this book. But the climax is not yet reached. Prostrations before this sacrifice, and adoration of it, as of the Divine Being himself, are the duties inculcated on the youthful Protestantism of England. When the priest, in the prayer of consecration, comes to the words, "This is my body," and as he repeats them he elevates

the bread; Jesus is supposed then immediately to take possession of it or it is supposed to be transubstantiated into His flesh; and consequently the manual commands the non-communicants, "Prostrate yourselves in the dust and say, Hail, Body of my God! Hail, Body of my Redeemer, I adore, I adore, I adore thee!" And, in a like manner, at the consecration and elevation of the wine, it directs them, with similar prostrations, to say, "Blood of Jesus, I worship thee! Blood of my Redeemer, I adore thee!" &c.

One matter more of interest remains-the ceremony of the Ablutions or Cleansings of the Chalice, which is performed with a scrupulosity requiring the assistance of no less than two persons-the deacon and sub-deacon-the one to bring forth wine for the purpose, and the other water. The crumbs from the paten are first put into the wine in the chalice, and the contents are then drained or drunk by the priest, the non-communicant the while addressing a prayer to "the Sacrifice of Love and Mercy" for "absolution of his sins." The second ablution then follows, which is by a mixture of water and wine typifying "the wine of the Gospel mixed with the water of earthly affliction." Lastly, the chalice is cleansed with pure water alone, symbolic of "the washing of the waters of baptism.". ceremony thus concluded, the veils and maniples are folded, and the worshipper finally exclaims:-"All is over. The Sacrifice of the Lamb is complete. We are redeemed to God through His blood. Alleluia, &c." Such is an outline of the substance of this startling little book; and such the system which underlies, in greater or less degree, all the ceremonial pomp, genuflexions, crossings, and prostrations, of the churches of Puseydom.

The

MR. RALEIGH, in commencing his lecture, wished to say that the title of the lecture should be "Poverty in its relations to Competence and Wealth," because it was chiefly on poverty that he intended to treat that night. There was no one thing of a material kind that mingled so constantly with the thought and feeling and multifarious transactions of our daily life as this thing, money. If we had none of it-if we had nothing equivalent to it-we were poor: if we had enough of it for present needs, and a little over for the needs and possible uses of the future, we were competent persons in that respect-we were "well off," as the saying was-(if we only knew it)— and if we had much of it we were rich, and we ought to be good and generous and happy in the use and dispensation of this gift committed to us in trust. A subject like that had an interest of a personal kind to almost everyone, but especiallyand he might be permitted to refer to it all the more as he was happy to see so many young friends there that night-to them young men, and young women, too; for some of them would be poor all their lifetime, certainly, according to the law of probability. Then, again, he hoped many of them would be-if not already-possessors of competence, and a few-he could hardly say he hoped very many-would be rich. They all, therefore, had a personal interest in this subject. It concerned them all who were in the morning of life, very early to form and keep right views, that they might be ready to meet misfortune, and able to hold up their heads and hold on their way through all weathers. But there were other reasons of an unselfish and public kind which ought to draw their attention to poverty, competence, and wealth. They were citizens,-young citizens-he hoped

they would all be Christian citizens of this state of England, or of some other, and they would find as they grew up that many great questions which affected the weal of the state and the social and moral progress of the whole world were linked more or less closely with the things which the words he had named expressed"Poverty!" "poor!" He had the

curiosity to turn to the dictionary to see what varieties or shades of meaning there might be in connection with that word, and he found a long and most melancholy list-not less than seventeen meanings given, and only the last of the number was a tho

roughly good one. The last meaning was one in reference to "the poor in spirit," used in the Scriptural sense, and with regard to the others, he asked who would not flee, as fast and as far as he could, from such an army of grim and ghostly hobgoblins as that? The body of a man was the most wonderful physical structure in the world-perhaps in the whole universe. "Know ye not that your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost?" What an argument for purity? and not for purity only, but also for sufficiency. Poverty, where it was extreme, starved the body, deprived it of nourishment, strength, sensation, abated the original organic forces of doing, and thus narrowed the basis which the body formed for higher things to grow up out of it, or at least on it. The Rev. gentleman adduced illustrations from the Scriptures of the poor being fed, and proceeded to show how poverty retarded improvement. It of course prevented education, beyond, at least, the mere rudiments of knowledge, beyond the first dawnings of intellectual culture. The poor were fain to seize upon the young bone and gristle as soon as there was any strength in them, and also on the young faculty before it

was properly developed, in order to keep gaunt famine from the door. Education required money as well as time, and also taste. Few things were more touching than to see the privations that were willingly endured, and efforts made, by educated persons, who had fallen upon evil days, in order to give their children that which they themselves knew to be beyond all price. In order to give a liberal education to their children he had known persons make themselves as poor as the poorest in the land, and one could not help thinking what a stride would be taken at once in the intellectual development of a nation, and probably in her moral progress, if all the poor made a corresponding effort in the same relative measure of heartiness in the education of their children. But they were too often-and no blame to themdark in mind. How should they strive to find light for their children? they were bread winners, and not light winners. He spoke of them as a class, and he said that they knew very little of the pleasures of literature, of the glow of knowledge, of the tenderness, and elegance, and quiet nameless charms of a general culture. He said also that poverty -though not inherently or of any necessity-yet as a matter of history it was a fact-had a continual pressure and tendency towards immorality and crime. They might say that this ought not to be. True: They might say that the pressure of it ought to be the other way. In a sense true. He was weary of hearing men talk all the year round of what ought to be, in the face of ten thousand living demonstrations that what ought to be never was. did not mean to say that they would not find a heatlthful piety amongst the poor. Hundreds of thousands

He

of demonstrations would arise to confute that calumny if any one uttered it. But poverty, where it was deep, did not of itself help their piety; but unquestionably there was a pressure in poverty towards moral evil more or less strong, according to the temperament of the individual or the character of those around, and

the nature and aspect of the outward circumstances. How difficult it was -how almost impossible-to have decency in anything like its best forms when several members of a family were thrown into one or two rooms. Ah! they in middle life were protected, not only by their principles, but their walls, by their partitions, by their furniture, by their manners, by their education, by their neighbours' example, outwardly at least. Now, all these were wanting to the very poor. But, although lights were breaking in, and wholesome forces were being generated in society by the action of the Christian church, "the end is not yet." The deliverance would come on some glad day of the future; and meantime they had the taskthey had the honour-and should he say the joy?-of working as they could for its coming. They asked how; and he would try to tell them. First of all as regarded themselves, -and here, of course, he spoke very largely to the younger part of the audience-they must resolve that in so far as the matter was put within their power they would do their very utmost in the keeping of the laws of God always, to flee from the disadvantages, straits, and perils of that condition. It might not be put in their power so absolutely as that they were sure to succeed, for society was a machine with many wheels, and God's providence was deep and manifold. But he strongly exhorted them to manfully battle with their difficulties, and endeavour to obtain success. He spoke of the economy practised by Benjamin Franklin, whom he described as a beautiful example of frugality and patience, and then went on to advocate the principle of giving as well as getting, for the good of others. He argued that for a man to become successful, and to continue to be blind and insensible to the condition of the myriads who were in the state from which he had sprung, was contrary to the spirit of Christianity. Nothing was more diametrically opposed to the spirit of Christianity, if he had received its vital doctrines,

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than that. Such a man might name the name of Christ, but he was practically serving Belial; he might call on God the Father, who was without respect of persons, but he was really worshipping Mammon. They were bound not only to work for the relief and for the amelioration of the condition of the poor, but they were bound to work for the destruction of their poverty, so that they should be poor no longer. He said that to work for less than that to expect less than that seemed to him quite below the measure of the whole question. Surely there was to be a burial day for this world's poverty, and no resurrection. To expect clearly the coming of that day was a true and noble faith, to which all Christians even did not attain. Many were faithless on that subject, for there was a philosophical scepticism cherished and expressed by the men of literature-by Saturday Reviewers, and such like-on those subjects affecting human progress. The thing seemed to present itself to their minds in a fatalistic aspect; they were really Pagans, with all their fine writing, living in a Christian land. Some of these people fancied that all things must continue as they were; so that we had this beautiful prospect given to us, that ten thousand years hence-if the world lasted so long-there would be intelligence and ignorance, virtues and crimes, rich and poor, just as now. Did they believe that? He !did not. He said that that theory was contradicted by all this world's struggles and attainment, by the knowledge she had actually got, which could not die, because it was being held increasingly under the Providence of God as an inheritance of man, by the virtues which were growing, slowly, but surely, among many people, by the acquired power of public opinion amongst nations, by the working of the spirit of modern progress in the different spheres of human life, by the sentiments and instincts of God's creatures, and by the Christian teachings of the Bible-by all those things

that dark, heartless theory of viewing human life was contradicted and condemned. But there was Christian scepticism on this subject as well. People said, "Do you really think that a time shall come in this world-at least under this dispensation-when there will be no poor, and that we ought to be such idealists as to work for that?" Yes, he did. If he did not believe that he told them for himself that his heart would die within him as he looked upon some of the aspects of our social life. "But," remarked some, "Christ said, 'The poor ye have always with you.' Yes, but He did not say they were always to be with them. He did not, surely, ordain poverty for the future ages. He did not adopt it as one of the institutions of His kingdom-He simply recognised its then existence. With regard to the charge of socialism that might be urged his answer would be this-he had no doubt, so far as one could form an opinion on the subject, that the perfect state of society, when it came, would not be less diversified, but more diversified, than the present, and in a sense there would be ranks, grades, and classes, just as now. As to socialism, he believed they would be further from it by an immeasurable distance than they were to-day. The real danger of strife in this country would arise from the perpetuation and increase of poverty far more than from its removal. When men had something they would stand for the rights of others, but they had nothing; when all the inheritance they could hope to leave to their children was nothing, for what could they expect them to stand if they had not the grace of God in their hearts. He next adverted to the immense amount of poverty at present existing in this country, and pointed out the practical modes of amelioration and relief. The cure lay in the application of the whole of the Gospel of Christ to the whole state of man, and he earnestly urged his hearers to adopt its teachings, and manifest the love and sympathy which it inculcated to their fellow creatures.

once

A NEW York merchant noticed, in the progress of years, that each successive book-keeper gradually lost his health, and finally died of consumption, however vigorous and robust he was on entering his service. At length it occurred to him that the little rear room where the books were kept, opened in a back yard, and was so surrounded by high walls that no sunshine came into it from one year's end to another. An upper room, well lighted, was immediately prepared, and his clerks had uniform good health ever after. -A familiar case to general readers is derived from medical works, where an entire English family became ill, and all remedies seemed to fail of their usual results, when accidentally a window glass of the family room was broken in cold weather, and forthwith there was a marked improvement in the health of the inmates. The physician at traced the connexion, discontinued his medicines, and ordered that the window-pane should not be replaced. A French lady became ill. The most eminent physicians of her time were called in but failed to restore her. At length Dupeytrent, the Napoleon of physic, was consulted. He noticed that she lived in a dim room, into which the sun never shone; the house being situated in one of the narrow streets, or rather lanes of Paris. He at once ordered more airy or cheerful apartments, and all her complaints vanished. The lungs of a dog become tuberculated, (consumptive,) in a few weeks, if kept confined in a dark cellar. The most common plant grows spindly, pale, and straggling, if no sunlight falls upon it. The greatest medical names in France of the last century, regarded sunshine and pure air as equal agents in restoring and maintaining health. From these facts, which cannot be disputed, the most common mind

should conclude that cellars, and rooms on the northern side of buildings, or apartments into which the sun does not immediately shine, should never be occupied as family rooms or chambers or as libraries, or studies. Such apartments are only fit for stowage, or purposes which never require persons to remain in them over a few minutes at a time. And every intelligent and humane parent will arrange that the family room and the chambers shall be the most commodious, lightest, and brightest apartments in his dwelling.

HINTS TO MOTHERS.

THE AWKWARD BOV.

IT will sometimes happen that in a family of well-trained children, there will be one so continually shy and awkward that culture is lost upon him. He is always blundering, upsetting and breaking things, and too often becomes the object of reproof, and almost of dislike to all about the house. Every one finds fault with him, and all offences are naturally turned off on his shoulders, often to the escape of the real offenders. He grows daily more careless, as he has no character to sustain, and, worse still, his heart grows morose and his manner sullen, from frequent punishment. If he becomes a man, you will no doubt see in him a bitter misanthrope, hating and hated by his fellow-men. Mother, can you bear to look forward to such a future for your boy, even if he is awkward and uncouth in his manners, often a source of mortification and trouble to you? Is he not your boy still? Has the heart he used to rest his infant head on turned to stone toward him? Ah, mother! underneath that rough shell may be, and doubtless is, a heart famishing for love, for approbation. How