Even supposing that, as a youth, he had entered the convent with erroneous views, it was the duty of the superiors to have taught him better. But, no; Rome knew that, in this way, she held a power over him which she could not otherwise possess. Moreover, it accorded with her own proud and hardhearted self-righteous spirit.

To pass on to a more advanced stage in the priesthood's history, when, leaving the seminary, the young man comes to exercise his office-how miserable the self-righteousness which tracks his footsteps! Many imagine that the office of a Romish priest must be one of happiness. He has generally unlimited power-the people of all ranks crouch at his feet. He has every indication of external homage, and, through the confessional, his curiosity is gratified with all the secrets of the parish. But instead of happiness, if possessed of any moral sensibility, how complete his misery! Most of this may be traced to the false position which he occupies as the administrator of a self-righteous system which is utterly repugnant to the religion of

Christ.

M. Rouaze, describing his own experience, says: "I came, at length, to the charge of a parish; and then it was that my disgust reached its height. Although, personally, I had nothing to complain of, and was generally kindly received in my various fields of labour, yet the evils of my position preyed upon my mind, and prepared me for a rupture, which I bless the Lord for having himself accomplished.

"It would be difficult to enumerate all the causes which make the life of a priest a life of wretchedness in a parish. But without going into this catalogue, it may be said, that he lives amidst a host of troubles and annoyances, unbalanced by any consolations.

M. Stilmant gives a similar melancholy testimony:"My sermons, which I made in conformity with the Romish doctrine, the masses which I celebrated for the living and the dead, in short, the whole external administration of the sacraments, left a fearful void in my soul, that made my life miserable. I was sceptical of everything about the Church. Death, judgment, and everlasting condemnation were ever before my eyes, without my being able to apprehend any means of escaping the wrath of God. I saw before me that law which I had a thousand times violated, and which pursued me with its thousand curses; I saw the sword of divine justice suspended over my guilty head; I felt the deadly sting of sin in my members, and my heart was filled with its subtile poison. My conscience was troubled under the conviction of guilt, and yet beset with stupid numbness. Raging lusts, which nothing but the blood of Jesus could subdue, rendered my life into lerable. Satan, that cruel enemy, entangled me every day in new snares; I knew not which way to turn; I was crushed beneath a burden which I could no longer support. In this state I went to consult an old confessor, who dismissed me with the promise that he would say some masses for the tranquillity of my conscience."

ture.

Nor is the struggle with self-righteousness the only misery. Oftentimes it becomes the struggle with Infidelity, which is as dreadful. The connection between Popery and Infidelity, the two extremes, has often been noticed. It has appeared in every age, and it is not difficult to trace the relationship. Disgust with blended absurdity and tyranny, creates unbelief. Christianity is confounded with its caricaBut there is another connection. Popery is intensely self-righteous, and disappointed self-righ"Obliged to live alone, what a sword is suspended teousness conducts to Infidelity, if not to Atheism. over his head! what anxieties oppress his mind, when he sees some of his brethren visited with the severity Don Pablo Sanchez exclaimed, in despair, after wearyof Episcopal authority without being able to guessing himself in the fire: "God is unjust, to give comthe cause! Formerly, the priest had some resourcehe could give his reasons, and remove or soften the infliction; but at present he has no such privilege he may see his prospects at once dashed to pieces; he may be wounded in his honour, in his reputation, without knowing for what cause he is visited with a punishment which, as being indelible, perpetuates his disgrace.

:

"What peace is there for a priest placed in such circumstances? His life, a life of fear and apprehension, a life of continual distrust, as he may at any moment be the victim of some calumny or detraction! How is it possible that this state of constant restraint should not have the worst influence on his character?

"Thus, disgust with my position soon became my dominant feeling. Surrounded with dangers, always under the dominion of fear, invested with a permanent office, and liable to be disgraced at any moment without cognizance of the cause, I had no one to whom I could communicate my troubles, and no hope of the cessation of this daily martyrdom; for had unburdened my heart to any one, I might be assured of its reaching the palace of the bishop.

"With a heart thus oppressed, there must be no intermission of duties of the most perilous character; he must listen daily to the minutest details of human depravity; probe the heart of each individual to detect its inmost secrecies; read, without ever saying 'It is enough,' in that endless book in which are displayed the full catalogue of human weaknesses. Who can say to what all this exposes a young priest?

"If the reader fails to comprehend the full danger

mandments and precepts that we cannot fulfil. I have renounced all, and given myself up to penances and mortification, and have gained no dominion over my passions-I am continually falling into sin." This is a fearful conclusion; but, in the circumstances, not unnatural. Discouraged and depressed, the selfrighteous sufferer, in the sullen spirit of an Infidel, gave himself up to complete indifference." Ah! for how much is Popery responsible! She is responsible for the Infidelity created by self-righteousness, as well as the Infidelity created by disgust. To turn, for a moment, to the latter, what a striking picture have we of woe! M. L'Hote, after being ten years a priest, says: "It happened to me, as it usually does to those who have been brought up in the Church of Rome"--they confound Christianity with the errors and superstitions of the Church, and become

Infidels:

"In this state of Infidelity into which I had fallen, what a frightful void beset my soul! The young man in his Infidelity runs from one pleasure to another-from dissipation to dissipation; giddy and thoughtless, he pursues his shadow. The man of the world in his Infidelity is occupied with speculations-with business-with the care of his family; but the priest in his Infidelity has nothing of all this to relieve his mind; he is alone-always alone; his life is a very hell, unless to Infidelity he adds imposture, and plays upon the credulity of others. He must preach; and

THE SUPERIORITY OF A FREE GRACE, &c.

what will be the subject of his preaching? He no longer believes in the superstitions of his Church, and the Bible, that divine book, is nothing to him but a lifeless and obsolete, if not a lying book. Let him become a Deist, and speak of the goodness of Godthe wonders of creation-of what is termed morality without doctrines; but it will be without life-without warmth; the intellect alone will speak, and every day he will contradict himself, overturning one day what he established the day before.

"Such was my state. I endeavoured to conceal it from every one. I sincerely regretted having been undeceived with regard to the superstitions of the Church of Rome. Better,' said I, and more for my happiness, to have remained a superstitous fanatic than to become an Infidel. Oh, my God!' I oftentimes cried, deliver me from this dreadful state of Infidelity; I can no longer support it.' Occasionally my occupations proved a distraction, and gave me a breathing-time."

Terrible as these pictures of the misery of selfrighteousness, in itself and in its consequences, may be, there is, to a sensitive mind, an aggravation in the woe; and that is, when the poor priest sees friends and members of his flock in wretchedness around, and can only look hopelessly on, unable to suggest the slightest relief. Can this be the religion of the Son of God? Does He design the office of the Christian ministry to be one of acutest misery?

M. Rouaze says:

"I had no comfort in my ministrations; and what afflicted me still more, was, to see that the means

prescribed for me to use had no efficacy in giving peace to hearts burdened and distressed with sin.

"Poor afflicted ones! whose anguish has been so intimately revealed to me, you have confided to me all your terrors; you have told me that you had entire confidence in me; and yet I could do nothing to dissipate your fears; I could do nothing to exempt you from trembling before God. And why? Because a sinner like yourself, disquieted equally with you, I could not give you that which I did not possess myself. I could not direct your hearts to Him who has perfectly saved his Church, who reveals to us by the Holy Spirit, that we only become children of God by faith, and that thus we receive from God himself, through his beloved Son, that peace which man cannot give.

"My heart has often been wrung when contemplating the numerous instances of troubled consciences that the prescriptions of Rome were totally incapable of healing. It was especially among the sick that I perceived that self-righteousness could only tremble before the tribunal of God. How often, after visits in which I have seen the dying expire before my eyes, have I returned home alarmed for myself, and dreading that awful moment in which I too should have to render the account of my ways before the Eternal! And yet, St Paul tells us, that we ought to rejoice in the prospect of our blessed hope.

"I had lost all the illusions of the seminary; the religion of Rome could not respond to the emotions of my heart. I could not serve God from love; it was ever a matter of calculation. Constantly doubting of the pardon of my sin, serving only in the spirit of bondage, witnessing around me others in the same troubled condition; and dreading most of all the moment when I should have to die without any assurance of pardon, I plainly saw that I could not be happy even in the most exact observance of such a religion, and I became disgusted with it."

285

M. Stilmant individualizes the picture, and makes it still more touching:

"My friend, after a lengthened series of macerations, fell into an illness which lasted a whole year. After some months of bodily, but especially of mental suffering, this young man perceived his end approaching. He redoubled his efforts to obtain heaven, at whatever cost. He went so far as to deny himself the medicines prescribed for his cure, desiring to create for himself a stock of merits in all circumstances, and by all possible means. At length, the superior of the house, despairing of his cure, thus addressed him: Courage, dear friend, you are ripe for heaven. The Lord is about to take you from this world, lest the evil one should sully your mind.' At these words, this gentle youth, clinging to life, and viewing God only as a stern and implacable judge, shed many tears. 'I know,' said he to me repeatedly, that I must soon die, but I know not where I am going. After so many mortifications, fastings, and privations of all kinds, I have no peace in my soul. All my confessions and communions leave me only where I was. Wretched as is my present state, what will become of me?' Meanwhile the disease gained ground, and this poor young man breathed his last in the midst of fearful agitation, calling upon the name of his father and his mother. This was not the conception I had formed of the death of a saint; and I began to perceive that it is impossible to be saved by one's works. I resolved to change my manner of life, and to mitigate the rigour of my religious observances."

After such a case as the above, one need not wonder and occasionally to suicide. This is the natural fruit to be told that men are sometimes driven to despair,

of

self-righteousness on anxious and awakened minds, unrelieved by the hopes of the Gospel.

Such is a graphic picture of self-righteousness. Many may think lightly of its evils, and oftentimes they may be disguised, but they are serious indeed. If even priests, educated men, in the vigour of life, and with manifold advantages for lightening the wretchedness, feel it to be so insupportable, what must it be on the mass of the people, who are gion of Rome, and so the religion of many millions; strangers to any alleviation? and yet this is the reliand not only of Rome, but of all religions not truly and vitally evangelical. In short, it is the religion of all mankind, whether they bear the name of Christian or not, who have not submitted to a free grace salvation through the righteousness of Christ. This may be a startling statement to many; but it is demonstrably true, from the Word of God, and also from fact and experience. There may be not a little to hide the solemn truth. The very carelessness and insensibility of men in the things of religion, may be a protection against the felt wretchedness of a selfrighteous salvation; but, the moment they are truly awakened to their real condition and prospects, their misery will, and must, be like that of the four priests of Rome. Not a few know this experimentally; and how sad the state of others, whose religious peace depends upon their continuing thoughtless and deadwhose terrors would be awakened as soon as they became serious and devout! In regard to neither, can it be said that anything deserving the name of happiness is theirs.

Let Christians who are resting on the true, the

free grace foundation, but who are exposed to the temptations of self-righteousness-temptations many and insidious, and which will never abandon them while in the body-be deeply impressed with the misery as well as the sin of self-righteousness. Let them see this fully developed in the religious system of the Church of Rome. Let them remember that its dark, cold, servile spirit as regards God, and harsh and cruel spirit as regards man, must be substantially the same under every form of religion. Let them remember that weariness, unrequited toil, perhaps despair, at least misery ever growing with increased labour, is the melancholy portion of those who make self the centre of their hope. Let them, more warmly than ever, bless God for Christ the Redeemer. Let them study, understand, and appreciate, the gratuitous salvation of the Gospel more and more; and never forget that, under God the Spirit, there is no better way of keeping it fresh and living in the mind, than dwelling on the wonders of free grace, contemplating its amazing proof in the work of the Son, and contrasting His religion with all the religions of men. Let Christians, too, not forget affectionately to feel for those, whether Papist or Protestant, who are involved in the wretchedness of self-righteous schemes of salvation, and to pray and labour, by appropriate means, for their deliverance. What believer does not sympathize with acute mental misery -with misery which is always the most acute to the best and most serious and sensitive minds-with misery which is the natural portion of all, and which yet might all be spared, were the free forgiveness of the Gospel discerned and appreciated ?

CHURCH DESPISERS.

THOSE church contemners, that can easily weigh
The profit of a sermon with a play;
Whose testy stomachs can digest as well
A proffer'd injury as a sermon-bell;
That say unwonted prayers with the like wills
As queasy patients take their loathed pills;
To what extremity would they be driven,
If God, in judgment, should but give them heav'n!
QUARLES.

my boat and take me off to the vessel to inquire if the Bibles were there. When Mr Williams returned from England, he brought with him a copy, which was lent, for a few weeks, to the missionary at Papeete; but so eager were the natives to have the loan of it, that the missionary seldom had it, except when using it in the school-house, or the place of worship. As he descended from the pulpit with it in his hand, he found persons at the foot of the steps have it to-day;" another: "Let me have it to-mor waiting to borrow it. One would say: "Let me row;" and a third would beg that he might have it when the others had done with it. Thus was it continually in the hands of the natives.

Long before the Bibles arrived, many of the people placed in the hands of the missionaries their money to purchase them, that they might not be disap pointed when they came to hand. At length a small packing case, containing thirty Bibles, arrived with Mr Nott's boxes and trunks from Sydney, New South Wales. Mr Nott having been taken ill, after his luggage had been put on board, was obliged to remain in Sydney, but sent on most of his things to Tahiti. It was by some means ascertained by the natives that there was a box of Tahitian Bibles at Papeete, in a store kept by an English merchant. They came repeatedly to me, begging that I would open the box and let them have the Bibles; for they would be doing no good lying there, but, if in their hands, they might derive benefit from them. I told them Mr Nott had sent a letter, stating that not a single box or trunk must be opened till he arrived. Perceiving that there was no probability of getting them from me, they devised a plan by which they obtained them. Several of the chiefs, and one or two members of the royal family went to the store where the Bibles were, and entered, as though they had come to purchase some of the articles there exposed for sale. A few of them stood round the storekeeper, talking to him, that he might not easily perceive what the others were doing, when, all at once, he heard a tremendous crash, and, to his great surprise, he found they had broken the case, and were scrambling for the Bibles. The man begged that they would not take them, stating that they were in his charge, and that he should be blamed if he allowed them to go. His entreaties were all in vain; they had now got them in their possession. They said to the store-keeper: "Don't you fear; we will at once write down the name of each person who has one, and we are willing to pay any price that may be demanded for them; but we will not give them up." We do not attempt to justify the steps taken to obtain the Bibles, but state the fact to show their earnest desire to possess them.

him his treasure. The dinner being on the table, the missionary said to him: "Put down your Bible, and dine with us." He replied: "Not to-day; I have better food here."

A FAMINE OF THE WORD OF THE LORD. The Queen's secretary succeeded in getting one, and, passing by the missionary's door, he called in to THE first portion of Sacred Scriptures that was pub-acquaint him with what had taken place, and to show lished in Polynesia was printed by the Rev. W. Ellis at Eimeo, an island in the neighbourhood of Tahiti, in the year 1818. Strangers would be surprised at the distance which some of the natives travelled, and the anxiety they manifested, to obtain these portions of the Word of God. The whole of the Sacred Volume having been translated by the missionaries, and revised by one of their number, whose correct knowledge of the Tahitian language eminently qualified him for that important service, three thousand copies were printed in London, by the British and Foreign Bible Society. Some little time elapsed, after the Bibles were ready to be shipped, before an opportunity was afforded of sending them to the islands, during which time the natives were making unceasing inquiries about them. When a ship has appeared in the offing with the English colours flying, they have come to me and asked permission to launch

When Makea, one of the principal chiefs of Rarotonga, was presented with a copy of the Bible complete, in the Tahitian language, he said: "Now I am a great chief. I now possess valuable property," His heart was so full of joy, that he immediately wrote a letter to the donor, expressing his sincere thanks for such a valuable present. He esteems it as his choicest treasure.

The price fixed upon the Bibles was two dollars. Had three dollars been demanded, they would cheerfully have given them.

When they did arrive, it was delightful to see with what eagerness they were purchased. Mr Pitman having received from England fifteen hundred copies

FRAGMENTS.

"It is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing."- mine? What is a little corn to the enjoyment of