may convince some upright mind of absurdities, admitted, perhaps unconsciously, by our separated brethren, in the creed of the true Protestant.

By the way, why is it always said, "a true Protestant-a good Catholic?" It is because the former are less quiet and more pugnacious than the latter! not from temper, but their position is that of the attack; they have undertaken to prove others wrong and themselves in the right: the Catholic is contented with that which has been delivered to him.

A most respectable head of the university of Oxford observed to me, "By mutual concession it might be possible to effect a reconciliation between the church of Rome and that of England." I answered, "The Catholic church has not changed, Sir." So, a bishop of the highlands of Scotland replied to some peace-making proposition of some members of the Kirk,-"Gentlemen-where you left us, there you will find us." So much for the repose of Catholics.

But the Protestants changed on their own authority only; while that which they did not change they were obliged to acknowledge was retained on the authority they, in other respects, renounced. Moreover, on quitting the centre of unity, they diverged from each other, faster even than they removed from the centre. Hence their distrust of their own cause; hence their air of defiance, to hide that distrust; hence the term, "true Protestants."

A servant offered himself to me at Avignon; he said he was a Protestant. "Of what sort? there are several sorts."-" Mais, un vrai Protestant." "Mais, mon ami! ils le sont tous; they are all true. The man was a follower of John Calvin. Genevois, je ne vois tel que toi, Genevois." There are some points

on which they all must agree, and these form

THE CREED OF A TRUE PROTESTANT.

I believe "the Holy Catholic Church;" that she was born pure; turned heathen, pagan, and idolatress; hid herself; crept into holes and corners; was lost a long while; and now belongs to any body that can catch hold of her. I believe the pope to be Antichrist, the man of sin, the Lady of Babylon, and the number six hundred threescore and six.

I believe that Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Queen Elizabeth of England, were popes; and that "every man has a pope in his belly."

I believe that every nation, except bigoted Roman Catholics, has a right to establish its own faith for itself; and that the established faith, except that of bigoted Roman Catholics, is, in each nation, the true one, provided it be pure and reformed.

I believe that things which disagree with the same third, agree with each other. Thus, Protestants are united because they all renounce Popery.

I believe that the two extremities of a line are nearer to each other than the middle of the line is to either; interrupted tradition surer than uninterrupted; and that, to jump back from the sixteenth century to the apostolic age, was wiser and safer than to admit that the apostolic age had, in the lapse of time, descended, in continued and even flow, to the sixteenth century.

I believe that, in the same sixteenth century, the sinfulness of heresy and schism did, thenceforwards, cease and determine.

I believe that I may err; but that I am not so likely to err as the council of Trent.

I believe that error is one, and that truth is various and discrepant.

I believe that the belief of the whole Christian world touching the eucharist changed in the dark ages, nobody knows how or why, or when or wherefore; and that it ought to change back again, though I do not know exactly to what. I believe that "This is my body," means "Here is," or "This is not my body."

I believe that the priest ought not to absolve the sins of people, for fear he should know them.

I believe that extreme unction was abolished, for fear Christians should live for ever in this world.

I believe that confirmation is as like a sacrament as possible, but that it is not a sacrament.

I believe that holy orders and matrimony are not sacraments, because some people can do without them.

I believe that festivals ought to be kept like fasts; and that fasts ought not to be kept at all.

I believe that ceremonies are of no consequence; and that it is of great consequence to abolish ceremonies.

I admit the authority of Scripture; though I reject the authority by which Scripture is given.

I believe that reason and Scripture will guide every man aright, provided every man reasons aright upon Scripture.

I believe nothing but what I understand, although I do not understand what I believe.

I believe that Gaza and Jericho are, both of them, in the same high road to Jerusalem.

MODERN CATHEDRALS IN ENGLAND.

No. 12 of the first volume of the Catholic Cabinet contained a most eloquent statement of the object had in view by the Catholics of former times in the erection of magnificent Cathedrals, as well as of the holy uses to which these. were applied. The writer of that article was a protestant, evidently of the

Puseyite school; and his description has reference not to the actual state of the public service in these English churches, but rather to the state of things in times gone by, as will appear by the following testimony of M. Pugin, whose evidence on this subject cannot be reasonably disputed.

"Now with reference to modern Cathedral solemnities, a term which is meant to apply to the daily mockery of worship enacted in our great churches, I have somewhat to say. I have pointed out what sort of devotion existed in St. Paul's Cathedral after the Change,' and I likewise briefly described the manner in which the Puritan faction manifested their opinion of church solemnities. I will now descend to our own times, and shew how inapplicable the term solemn is to the performance of the modern service. No sooner did the Church become a mere state engine in the hands of courtiers, and ecclesiastics,-worldly men, panting only after temporal rewards, than this shadow of ancient choir-worship, which had been retained, was considered too irksome by the new churchmen; and like the pluralists, who preached to their parishioners by paid substitutes, they resolved to worship God by proxy; and, accordingly, abandoned the Choir to the chorister-boys and singing-men,—a set of wretched hirelings, whose salaries are so small, that they are obliged to follow trades and secular employments, in order to gain a livelihood. I will not disgust my readers by relating any of the many instances of disgraceful conduct exhibited by persons of this class, to which I have been an eye-witness. The hurried manner in which they arrive from their different workshops and avocations; their irreverence in the choir; the indecent speed with which they depart; the total unfitness of such people for the performance of any sacred duty, must strike every person of common perception and fill him with disgust. I have visited every Cathedral establishment in this country, and that, not in a casual manner; but I have tarried in them, and can positively state, that the manner in which the service is performed is indecorous in the extreme; nor would any one but an actual observer credit the indecency exhibited in the Cathedral Choirs during the afternoon service on Sundays. A great portion of the congregation are there absolutely for no other purpose than to hear the singing; they are not even at the pains to conceal their intention, but stand in a mob, staring at the choir, and bustle out as soon as the anthem is done and their amusement ceases. 'Persons are requested not to walk about the church during divine service,' is the painted announcement which meets the eye on entering any Cathedral door, and it is a constant occupation for the legs and lungs of the vergers to enforce this regulation. In London, at St. Paul's, it is a hopeless affair; and so they lock up the Choir, and the mob stare through the bars at the parsons, like fair-people at a beast-shew, wondering" what they can be doing of." On a week day, to be sure, these churches are perfectly quiet, but the reason is that nobody comes near them. Taking pattern by their clergy, the people seem to think frequent church-going a great bore, and so the solemnities of the week are left to the above-described

functionaries, who, with a few old maiden ladies and decrepit men, are the sole occupants of the Choir. To speak of Cathedral solemnities, in this country, is a mere farce,-absolute nonsense. Take a Ranter from his tub; set him in the magnificent pulpit of some gigantic Church; and even such a wretch as that would derive some degree of importance from the splendid localities that surround him. Thus, but in a less forced degree, it is with the Established Church. She derives all her dignity from the remains of ancient splendor, with which she is invested; and there, her votaries are actually trying, in the face of reason, to pass themselves off as integral parts of her system, though, in fact, they have not the slightest connection with them. Strip off the borrowed Catholic plumes, in which she now struts, and she will instantly be degraded to a level with the Puritan.*

Solemnity of worship is only to be found in the Catholic Church; and let those, who would behold it, repair to those majestic churches, which still maintain unchanged, unimpared, those rites, for whose celebration they were erected: where the high altar still stands bright and glorious; where the choir is filled with devout ecclesiastics; and each chapel contains its reverential worshippers; where the sculptured images of saintly men and holy deeds are undefaced and unbroken, and where the same spirit which, centuries ago, first

⚫ I doubt not that many will consider this as a base calumny, and will exclaim: "Is there not St. Pauls? is not that a Protestant Cathedral, raised by Protestant zeal, and for Protestant worship?" All this certainly appears very plausible, but let us examine it narrowly. And first. Was St. Paul's Church raised by Protestant zeal? by the contributions of the clergy and others as a proof of their devotion to the Glory of God? No! it was paid for by a tax on coals levied on the city of London!

Secondly. Is it a place of worship? No: decidedly not.

Thirdly. Is it a building calculated for the performance of public worship, according to the rites of the Established Church? Not in the least: on the contrary, it is so unfit for the purpose, that, after the greater portion of the church is stocked off with rails and spikes, the clergy are locked up in the Choir, to enable them to go through the service without interruption. What is the real and actual use made of this building? It is the largest, and, since the proprietors of the Colosseum have lowered their prices, the most expensive exhibition in the metropolis. It is a sort of ecclesiastical shew, on the same principle as a shilling night' at Vauxhall, which draws the deluded public by the low price of entering, not thinking what it will cost to see afterwards. Thus the moderate demand of twopence each is made by the functionary at the church-door; but, once in, barrier after barrier opposes your progress, to pass each of which, fresh demands are made; till, by the time all has been seen, the visitor finds his pocket has been severely taxed for his curiosity.(1) How could this great edifice be made available for the purpose of Christian worship? Only by appropriating it to the rites and ceremonies of the Catholic Church: the high altar, as at St. Peter's, placed under the dome would form a splendid point of central attraction; the nave would be filled with worshippers, and become essentially necessary; the many recesses, now occupied with groups of heathen divinities, would be converted into chapels; while the ailes would serve for the perambulation of the processions. Thus, and thus only, would every portion of this vast Church become appropriately filled, and the extent of space which this building occupies become necessary for the destination for which it has been ostensibly raised. Let no one. then, venture to hold this up as an illustration of Protestant splendor. That it is a noble building, is most true; but it is that very circumstance that unfits it for the Established worship; and I have clearly shewn that it is for the celebration of Catholic rites alone that the necessity or propriety of such a fabric could be proved.

(1) We paid three shillings and sixpence to see the various sights shewn in the Cathedral. -ED. CATH. CAB.

erected the glorious pile, still dwells in the hearts of the faithful, who flock within its walls. And how forcible and impressive is the manner in which the Church celebrates her sacred festivals and seasons, which occurring in regular succession, annually present to her children the most lively picture of the history of their redemption! how appropriate is each ceremony for the mystery it represents!

Those who are accustomed to see these vast churches only during two short stated periods of the day, can form no idea of the sublime effect produced on the mind by the nocturnal offices of the Catholic Church. It is impossible adequately to describe the midnight mass at Christmas, when the Nativity of our Redeemer is announced by hymns and carols of praise, breaking through the stillness of that solemn hour; and how awfully vast do these temples appear, when the lights that blaze around the altar hardly reflect half up the towering shafts, whose still loftier vaults are lost in absolute obscurity. Then in Holy Week, during the solemn Office of the Tenebræ, when the tapers, emblematic of the prophets who appeared on earth before the coming of our Lord, have gradually been extinguished, as the successive Nocturns were sung, and total darkness at the end of the 'Benedictus,' reigns throughout the sacred edifice, how steals the plainvive chaunt of the 'Miserere' on the ears of the ravished worshippers, swelling gradually, till the soul seems already transported among the angelic choirs!

How splendid also are the solemn processions that commemorate the great events of Sacred Writ! how majestic are the ceremonies of Palm Sunday, when the great western doors are thrown open to receive the clergy, singing the anthem "Be ye lifted up ye everlasting gates, and the King of Glory shall enter in," while, as the procession moves up the nave, the loud chaunt of “Hosanna in excelsis, benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini," carries away the mind of the pious Christian to the welcome hymn that saluted our divine Redeemer, on his triumphant entrance into Jerusalem! How edifying also is the procession of the blessed Sacrament on Corpus-Christi Day, as it slowly moves, with surpassing brightness, through the streets of the city, dispensing benedictions on the assembled multitudes, who eagerly deck their houses, and. scatter inumerable flowers in the way! And, when the penitential season of Lent is concluded, and the Church, who, in sackcloth and ashes, has been bewailing the suffering of her dying Lord, once again commands her children to exchange sorrow for joy, announcing the glad tidings, that Christ is indeed risen triumphant over sin and death, then, when the joyful alleluias of praise ring through the vaulted edifice, and the veil that covered the glory of the sanctuary is removed, and the altar shines forth with all its wonted splendour, while the pealing organs and glittering vestments announce the joyful solemnity, what Christian can refuse to acknowledge the overwhelming influence of such a scene? Truly, these are solemnities which carry the devout soul beyond the confines of human delights, and even reach the flinty hearts of worldly men, who would fain steel themselves against such impressions.