we have before referred. For, by as much as the subjection to authority required by the Church of Rome exceeds that which we think lawful, by so much does the absolute enslavement of the consciences of the regular clergy to their superiors exceed the ordinary submission required by the Church of Rome of the secular clergy and of the laity. How incredibly uncompromising this doctrine is in modern practice the reader may see for himself if he will peruse the amusing and instructive volumes of Père Dom des Pilliers on the French Benedictines.1

Another powerful allurement which Rome holds out lies in the importance which she attaches to devotional and other Christian exercises as opera operata. Of all flattering unctions which a man can lay to his soul, this one, of fancying that his own works, as such, can save him, is perhaps the most fatally seductive. Now, we can say, without fear of offending any theological sensibilities in our own Church, that the doctrine of Rome lends itself unduly to such a hallucination, practically disannulling the efficacy of Christ's imputed righteousness. No other reason than this arrogant desire to owe our salvation to ourselves seems to us sufficient to account for the fact that so many men professing Christianity delight in penances and macerations, the effect of which is to make them selfrighteous and uncharitable. And it is equally difficult to see what else would so blind their eyes as to conceal from them what is apparent to every one but themselves, that in most cases they do not, by such practices, attain to a higher degree of holiness, or to higher possibilities of worship and Divine communion.

Again, few that have any acquaintance with the secret springs of human action will be disposed to doubt the attractiveness, to some natures, of the authoritative position of a Roman priest toward his flock. The love of power and influence over our fellow-men is one of the strongest of human motives; and when we fancy, as we commonly do, that we love power merely for the good which it enables us to do, we are often almost defenceless against a temptation so subtle. This motive would naturally operate most strongly on those who lack native power, and on those who are impatient of the inevitable delay attending the acquisition of influence by our own merits. To such Rome offers the bribe of almost unbounded spiritual sway over at least a limited number of souls.

We believe that some clergymen are driven to Rome merely by

1" Les Bénédictins de la Congrégation de France." Mémoires du R. P. Dom Pierre-Marie-Raphaël des Pilliers. Bruxelles: P. J. D. De Somer, Rue de l'Hôpital 30. 1868. 2 vols., 8vo.

the circumstances in which they were placed in their early ministry. It may be that one inclined to an abundant ritual has had a parish in a community where there prevailed a narrow and intolerant spirit, combined with extreme "lowness of views" in the matter of forms. Public opinion, or possibly, in a few cases, a little unfortunate pressure from his superiors, may be expected to excite, in a man whose mind is not, perhaps, too well disciplined, a spirit of impatience and a recalcitrant state of feeling, which ends, when excessive, by casting him headlong out of the Church. For this the Church should not be blamed, for it is not in her to be thus narrow and illiberal. Those must bear the blame who have so misunderstood her large catholicity as to offer or accept such vexations as of her inspiring. We are sure that some men go to Rome purely and simply for the love of change. And to this weakness how often is there added a fondness for notoriety, the insatiable desire "to flit about the mouths of men." How often, too, is this morbid taste made keener by a sort of pseudo-martyr spirit, which delights in unnecessarily inviting persecution, and is ready to fancy itself persecuted, however obstinately mankind may persist in letting it alone.

The causes we have hitherto enumerated belong to the infirmities rather than to the vices of our nature. We should not fulfil our task if we shrank from noticing another (God grant the most infrequent!) cause of Romanizing. In all large bodies of men, however distinguished generally by eminent virtues, there must needs be some whose moral nature is more or less tainted. Our clergy are not, and have never claimed that they were, an exception to this rule. For example, we have recently been reminded that some of our clergy, who were sent out to California to preach the Gospel, were found by their Bishop, on his arrival, not laboring in that whereunto they had been sent, but working for the paltry bribes of the gold mine, "having loved this present world." The tone of our clergy is very high; yet, even in its ranks, there will be one, here and there, in whom some insidious influence from beneath has blasted the whole moral being, and withered and seared the conscience with a fiery gust from the very throat of hell.

Of such diseased moral natures some will break out into scandalous living, and so exclude themselves from the ministry of all Churches. Others, equally infected, but otherwise tempted, will keep within the bounds of outward decency. To persons of this description our Church offers no attractions. Their ambition should be, and commonly is, disappointed; their low moral tone must unfit xciii.-10

them for sympathy with their brethren, and their hypocrisy is in perpetual danger of exposure. There is no peaceful rest for them with us; but alas! is there not a place for them in the Church of Rome? We do not deny the excellent Christian virtues and graces of many as well in the clergy as in the laity of that Church; but we know what we say when we affirm that it is a Church in every rank of whose hierarchy there is a place for any man, however rotten at heart and thoroughly depraved, who is ready to devote a moderate amount of talent, together with much zeal, to the ultimate triumph of the Papacy. It is a Church of which that is still true which the old satirist said of the Rome of his day, "Omnia Roma cum pretio." The mitre, the red hat, nay, the triple crown itself, have not these things been venal for centuries; and is it not, in the last resort, with conscience and honesty that the price is paid?

And here, though we leave much unsaid, we must stop. We have enumerated a considerable number of possible causes, any one of which is sufficient to account for many Romeward defections: the love of extremes, the difficulties of the middle course, indolence, cowardice, impatience, puerility of mind, and sensuousness; gynaecolatry, a taste for asceticisin, vanity, self-righteousness, ambition of influence, reaction from undue pressure, love of novelty and notoriety, Quixotism, and, last of all, moral obliquity,—what a vast superabundance of presumption does such a list as this raise against the gratuitous imputation that when any one leaves us to go to Rome it is our Church and her institutions that are to blame for it. We ask our fellow-Christians whether, after this, we may not fairly expect them to concede to logic and common-sense what we might have asked them to give to Christian charity and fairness? Will they not cease vaguely laying to our Church, her doctrines, ritual, and government, what we have shown can be amply accounted for by so many causes quite beyond the control of the Church? Will they not cease doing this, or at least, hereafter, make some effort to connect the effects with some particular feature of our Church, and show us at least some probability that such was their cause?

We are confident that a mass of presumption like that which we have gathered in our favor is as good, in every respect, as a positive demonstration of our case. For the moment our critics abandon their vague and general accusations, and attempt to come to particulars; we know and they feel, that so far from having occasion to take any blame to our Church, we have reason to rejoice and exult in a Church from which those elements naturally fall away, which in a pure and Apostolic Church are least to be desired.

THE

HE late Bishop of New Hampshire was born of Puritan ancestry, in the rural town of Hopkinton, then the capital of the State. Some three or four generations back his family branched off from the same trunk with that of the venerable Philander Chase, Bishop of Ohio and Illinois. He entered Dartmouth College in his nineteenth year, A.D. 1813, and graduated in the first rank of scholarship. Until near the close of his college life it was the expectation of himself and his friends that he would enter the legal profession; but in 1815 occurred a religious awakening in the college, in the progress of which he became deeply impressed. He did not join any religious society at once, but during the winter of 1816-17 he was engaged in teaching at Hopkinton, where was an Episcopal Church. He says, "My attention was attracted by its solemn forms and regular ministrations, and by the faithful preaching of the Rev. Joseph R. Andrews, the officiating minister. I had found a Church which answered my idea of what a Christian Church ought to be. I dismissed the intention of studying law, and determined to devote myself to the ministry of the Episcopal Church." That Church was then and there regarded very much as the Jews under Nehemiah, engaged in rearing again the broken walls and restoring the desolated sanctuary, were regarded by the Horonites and the Ammonites. Few, also,

who have always enjoyed the scriptural teachings of the Church Catholic can understand the wrestlings of soul with which those noble men who grew up under the awful shadow of the harsh theology of that day had to fight their way back to a clear apprehension of some of the fundamental truths of Christianity. The full note-book of the deceased bishop, containing many published essays on topics then discussed, exhibits abundant evidence of his own mental conflicts. In the spring of 1817, the reverend gentleman whose faithful ministrations he had enjoyed at Hopkinton having removed, his young convert mounted a horse and rode forty miles to receive Holy Baptism at his hands. He pursued the study of theology under Bishop Griswold, and he always regarded that truly Apostolic man with the deepest reverence. By him he was ordained deacon, December 9, 1818, and presbyter, September 27, 1820. He officiated for a time at Salem, and at Springfield, Mass., and in September, 1819, he assumed the charge of Emmanuel Church, Bellows Falls, Vt. Here he married, and remained until his election to the Episcopate in 1843. Here, in seclusion, he labored faithfully in the pastoral work. Beginning with a small nucleus, he gradually gathered a prosperous and devoted flock, who thoroughly appreciated his worth of character, and hung with interest on his instructions. His preaching, though not eloquent, was remarkably thoughtful, instructive, and practical. He was happy in awakening and maintaining a lively interest in the study of Holy Scripture. In his pastoral intercourse he was genial, kind, and sensible. He was faithful to speak a word in season, whether of exhortation or reproof; and he knew how to make the arrow reach its aim. Moving among the people with a quiet, dignified demeanor, and interesting himself in all that concerned them, he made them feel that he entertained toward them the regard of a personal friend, while he rendered the attentions of a courteous gentleman. In his flock there was a native element of refinement, and of plastic zeal and devotion, which is rare in our New England villages. It took plainly, during those years of moulding, the stamp of his own mind and character. There existed among them, as we can testify, an unusual warmth of attachment for the Church and her ministers; great unanimity and mutual friendliness, cordial coöperation in Church work, and superior intelligence as regards the teachings and usages of the Church. The spirit of calm persistence in duty which prevailed here, without bluster or consciousness of merit, seemed to be a true reflection of the motives and influences with which he himself was imbued. By such traits he won the reverence and affection of the people generally. Without compromising prin