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it has no centre it is now purely chimerical. The great teachers of Christendom fancied the Pope was that centre, but

this was evidently delusion. It was in

the beginning a condition of salvation to "hear the church," but as she has lost her voice nobody can be expected to

hear her now, and the conditions of sal

vation are changed. It used to be her business to impose terms of communion, but it is the peculiar privilege of modern Christians to substitute others for them. The defection of millions in the earlier ages, who became Arians or Donatists, did not in the least affect her unity or impair her authority; but the rebellion of certain Englishmen-whose fathers had obeyed her for a thousand years, or of Russians, who have invented a local religion and do not even aspire to an universal one is quite fatal to both. Of all former apostates it was rightly said," They went out from us because they were not of us," but no one would think of saying this of men who live under the British Constitution, because they have a clear nght to "go out" whenever they please.'"

Such is the Anglican theory, . . . in the face of which the Anglican prophets go to their temples, and loudly proclaim, "I believe in One, Holy, Catholic Church." The natural result of such teaching is that a majority of Englishmen have long ceased to believe in anything of the kind.

Nor is the Anglican theory about the Catholic Church a more imposble absurdity than what they profess to believe, and apparently do believe, about their own, although they do not state their belief in the bare and unambiguous manner in which we will state it for them.

That sect "existed," they tell us, "before the so-called Reformation, which was only a trivial episode in history. It left the Church of England exactly what it was before, and only made it a little more Catholic. If its founders called the Mass a 'blasphemous fable,' they must have intended that it was the most sacred rite of the

Christian religion. Christian religion. If, whenever they altered their new PrayerBook (which they did very often), it was always to make it less Catholic, this was probably in the hope that its doctrine would improve in quality as it lessened in quantity. If its bishops for many generations persecuted Catholics to death or tortured them as 'idolaters' this was only a quarrel of brothers, and they were as deeply enamored of the Catholic faith as those whom they murdered for professing it. If for more than a hundred years they gave the highest dignities to men who had never received episcopal ordination, that fact proved nothing against their reverence for the apostolic succession, or their conviction that they possessed it themselves. In like manner their casting down altars (in some cases making them into paving-stones), and substituting a 'wooden table,' in no way affect our constant declaration that the doctrine of the Christian sacrifice was always most firmly held and taught in the Anglican Church. That they allowed their clergy every variety of creed may have been one way of testifying their conviction that truth is one. Their constant execration of the Catholic faith must be interpreted as meaning something quite opposite; in the same way, if you suppress the Homilies and reverse the Articles, which for some sagacious reason were written as they are, you will find the genuine theology of our founders.

"Finally, if the Church of England pretended to be fiercely Protestant for three centuries, this was only to take the world by surprise about the year 1870, and thus secure the 'Catholic revival' which will hasten the time when Dr. Tait

will be universally recognized as the legitimate successor of S. Anselm-particularly in his religious views-and the Anglican reformation justly appreciated as a noble protest against the noxious errors of Protestantism, with which it accidentally coincided in point of time, but had nothing in common in point of doctrine."

But of what avail is all this? Ritualists succeed in revealing the disorganization of their sect, only to show that it is incurable, and yet are able to persuade themselves that such a sect as this, which exists only to "neutralize" the revelation of the Most High, is an integral part of that majestic and inflexible "Church of the living God," upon which he has lavished all the highest gifts which even divine munificence could bestow.

Speaking of some recent conversions to the Catholic Church, the Church Herald says: "From what we hear from quarters which are well informed, there can be little doubt

that another large and influential exodus in the same direction is imminent." If Anglicans are converted now, the case does indeed seem hopeless. But they need more than ever at this moment a solemn warning. They may begin to desire reconciliation, and to flee from the house of bondage; but, if they think they can criticise the church as they have been in the habit of criticising their own sect; if they propose to teach instead of to learn; to command instead of to obey; if they do not seek her pardon and blessing in the loving spirit of penance, humility, and submission, let them remember that the church of God is no home for the lawless and self-sufficient.

But to all those who in humility and sincerity are seeking the truth, we would say with all possible intensity of entreaty: "Let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely," for "the SPIRIT and the BRIDE say, COME."

ANTAR AND ZARA;

OR,

"THE ONLY TRUE LOVERS."

AN EASTERN ROMANCE NARRATED IN SONGS.

BY AUBREY DE VERE.

PART VI.

THEY SANG.

I.

THE people met me at the rescued gate,
On streaming in the immeasurable joy,
Warriors with wounds, gray priests, old men sedate,
The wife, the child, the maiden, and the boy.

Then followed others—some as from a tomb,
Their face a blank, and vacant; blinded some;
Some that had whitened in the dungeon's gloom;
Some, from long years of lonely silence, dumb.

Anatomies of children with wild glare,

Like beasts new caught; and man-like spectres pale; And shapes like women, fair, or one time fair (Unhappiest these), that would not lift the veil.

Then saw I what is wrought on man by men :
Then saw I woman's glory and her shame:
Then learned I that which freedom is—till then
The soldier, not of her, but of her name.

The meaning then of Country, Virtue, Faith,

Flashed on me, lightning-like: I pressed my brow Down on the wayside dust, and vowed till death My life to these. That was my bridal vow.

II.

A dream was mine that not for long
Our joy should have its home on earth;
That love, by anguish winged, and wrong,
Should early seek its place of birth;

That all thy hand hath done and dared
Should scantlier serve our country's need
Than some strange suffering 'twixt us shared
Her last great harvest's sanguine seed.

I saw false friends their treaties snap
Like osiers in a giant's hand;

Saw sudden flames our cities wrap;

Saw, drowned in blood, our Christian land.

I saw from far the nations come

To avenge the lives they scorned to save, Till, ransomed by our martyrdom

Our country carolled o'er our grave!

III.

Still to protect the lowly in their place,
The power unjust to meet, defiant still,
Is ours; and ours to subjugate the base
In our own hearts to God's triumphant will.

We, playmates once amid the flowers and rills,
Are now two hunters chasing hart and hind,
Two shepherds guarding flocks on holy hills,
Two eaglets launched along a single wind.

What next? Two souls-a husband and a wife— Bearing one cross o'er heights the Saviour trod ;What last? Two spirits in the life of life

Singing God's love-song under eyes of God.

IV.

I dreamed a dream when six years old:-
Against my mother's knee one day,
Protected by her mantle's fold,

All weary, weak, and wan I lay.

Then seemed it that in caverns drear

I roamed forlorn. The weeks went by From month to month, from year to year: At last I laid me down to die.

An angel by me stood, and smiled;

He wrapt me round; aloft he bore; He wafted me o'er wood and wild;

He laid me at my mother's door.

How oft in sleep with heart that yearned
Have I not seen that face! Ah! me,
How slowly, seeing, I discerned

That likeness strange it bears to thee!

V.

If some great angel thus bespake,
"Near, and thy nearest, he shall be,
Yet thou-a dreamer though awake—
But thine own thought in him shalt see";

If some great angel thus bespake,

"Near, and his nearest, thou shalt be,

Yet still his fancy shall mistake

That beauty he but dreams, for thee";

If, last, some pitying angel spake,
"Through life unsevered ye shall be,
And fancy's dreams suffice to slake
Your thirst for immortality";

Then would I cry for love's great sake,

"O Death! since truth but dwells with thee, Come quick, and semblance substance makeIn heaven abides Reality."

VI.

Upon my gladness fell a gloom:

Thee saw I-on some far-off dayMy husband, by thy loved one's tomb: I could not help thee where I lay.

Ah! traitress I, to die the first!
Ah! hapless thou, to mourn alone!
Sudden that truth upon me burst,

Confessed so oft; till then unknown.

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