smoke of a 24-pounder were more acceptable than the noiseless aspirations going on at that moment in every part of his royal brother's dominions, God, who is the Judge of all, will one day let us know." Such knowledge may be the privilege of a Duke of Bucks, but it will probably not be imparted to common

persons.

When the widow of the royal admiral-the Dowager Queen Adelaide-went over the seas to Madeira, in 1847, in search of as much health as might keep off death for a brief season or two, the voyage was commenced with divine service. It was the ordinary service for the day, Sunday, the 16th of October. The chaplain of the ship (the Howe) read the prayers. The sermon was preached by her majesty's private chaplain, and it was so singularly inappropriate to the occasion, that the audience probably regretted that the office had not been allotted to the ship's chaplain. But when the naval gentleman's turn came, he followed the fashion set by his more dignified predecessor, and vexed the dying queen's ear by a doctrinal disquisition on how " almost all things are, by the law, purged with blood."

In spite of all orthodox observances, some unorthodoxy has crept into the navy, and occasionally appears. Time was, when a chaplain thought there was no Sunday in ten fathom water; and at the present time there is other matter connected with the subject. What are naval chaplains to do with the "Germanites?"

Dibdin never dreamt of such skulking rascals as these! They pretend to be a religious sect. Their tenets sanction their entering the navy, drawing their rations, spending their wages, performing ordinary ship duties (when there is little save housemaid's work to do), and making themselves generally comfortable. But "blessed are the peace-makers!" and the Germanites have made it known that they do not fight. They even refuse to wear arms, which they may be called upon to use for the purpose of suppressing adverse opinions by force rather than by argument. They would have gone to the Nile or to Trafalgar with Nelson, and would have discussed the point in dispute with the French gentlemen who were of a different opinion to themselves, but to "fight it out would have been against their principles. They will condescend to be rowed about, or to take an oar in a guard-boat, but to act in self-defence, or in defence of that they are paid to guard, they deeply decline! They have not even the spirit of the quaker who happened to be on board one of our ships in a general action, when a French boarder attempted to get in at the port-hole where the man of peace was standing. "Friend," said the quaker, "thou hast made a mistake; thou canst not enter this way," and he illustrated the impossibility by snatching up a pike and pushing it through the intruder, thrusting him back into the sea. The shipwrights of the Isle of Dogs are as perverse as the Germanites in the navy.

They cannot, without sacrifice of self-respect, work under 78. a day! Their Scotch rivals work for 4s. 6d. The Poplar shipwright, with his self-respect, prefers doing nothing and obtaining 6s. a day from the charitable, to prevent his dignified person and family from being starved. The naval chaplains, with nothing else to do, might be profitably employed in converting these heathen skulkers to a sense of manly dignity.

FAMILY CHAPLAINS.

FAMILY

existence, or

A "private Before Con

AMILY CHAPLAINS owe their at least their origin, to a lady. chapel" preceded the "Chapel Royal." stantine had consecrated his tent, a Roman lady had formed a chapel in her house, and appointed a chaplain. In the reign of Diocletian there was a lady, named Lucilla, who took the hottest interest in the tremendous church feuds of her day, (it would be quite incorrect to suppose that all fierce discussion and lack of charity are confined to the pleasant church period in which we live,) and to this lady must be assigned the honour of having invented the private chaplain. His name was Majorinus, and it became a name of some notoriety. This lovely and orthodox lady, however, went a little astray in non-essentials, and a certain officious Archdeacon Cæcilianus (who became of even greater note than Majorinus) felt called upon to be disagreeably frank with the lady Lucilla. Now, there was no church question ever a-foot in those days that the women did not take enthusiastic part in.

When the see of Carthage became vacant,

Lucilla remembered the impertinence of the archdeacon, the more especially as he was named as one likely to be raised to the vacant dignity. She at once shook heaven and earth in the interests of her own chaplain; all her lady friends took the same side and agitated to the same purpose. These women widened a tolerably broad split that already existed in the Church, for, of course, there were other ladies of a more ascetic tendency, who doated on the archdeacon, and resolved to carry him to the episcopacy. The result was that the Donatist party elected Majorinus, while the "Catholic" party elected Cæcilianus. What came of the diocese of Carthage under the African bishops may be read elsewhere, and is well worth the reading. Suffice it to be said here, that the proto-private chaplain was in the service of a lady, and that she helped him to a bishopric! It is just possible that her snug little family chapel may have given to Constantine the idea of turning his tent to a similar purpose.

In England the lazily pious Normans seem to have much abused the purpose for which family chaplains were instituted. We smile at the paper prayer-mills of the Tartars, but the chaplains of some of the Normans were little better, if it be true, as Collier tells us in his Ecclesiastical History, that "Instead of going to church at morning prayer, the rich laity procured a priest to say matins in their bedchamber before they were up." This representative system was