So that you pass at once from the bustling city into the deepest seclusion.

There are three hundred and fifty churches in Rome: and any one of an hundred of them is such a wonder and beauty, as, placed in America, would draw visiters from all parts of the country. I speak now exclusively of the interior. The entire interior walls of many of these churches are clothed with polished, antique marble. They are hung around with paintings; and filled with marble pillars, statues, tombs, and altars. These altars, built often of jasper, porphyry, and the most precious ancient marbles, are commonly placed in recesses or chapels on each side of the church, so that they offer some retirement to the votary.

I confess that I seldom enter these churches without an impulse to go and kneel at some of the altars. and both agree with me in this. We have often said, that if it were not for the air of pretension it would have to any of our acquaintances who might chance to pass, we certainly should do it. As we were walking in St. Peter's to-day, said, "It does not signify, I do wish, in serious earnest, that I could be a Catholic." My own feeling is-and in this we agreed that if it were not for the faith, I should like many of the forms very well. These ever-open churches, these ever-ascending prayers, the deep seclusion and silence, "the dim religious light," the voices of morning mass or vesper hymn, the sacred themes depicted upon every wall and dome, and again and evermore, these holy altars, whose steps have been worn by the knees of the pilgrims of ages pastall these things commend themselves, not merely to the imagination, but to the most unaffected sentiments of devotion.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE ROMAN CATHOLIC SYSTEM.

On taking leave of Rome, I shall make it a text for some thoughts on the general subject of the Catholic religion.

Of a dispensation of Christianity, embracing more countries, and numbering more adherents than any other, it cannot be at any time unimportant or uninteresting, to form a correct judgment. But in addition to this, there are circumstances at the present moment, which give the subject a considerable prominence among those that invite the public attention. The old Protestant horror against Popery has been, for some time past, gradually dying away; and although circumstances have recently kindled up a temporary excitement on the subject, I think it cannot become general or lasting. The papal see has lost all political power and importance; it is fast parting with its revenues; it is annually alienating to bankers, parcel by parcel, the very patrimony of St. Peter's; it no longer gives any countenance to those worst corruptions which brought on the Protestant Reformation; and if it has

not altogether withdrawn its sanction from the Inquisition, it no longer encourages the application of those tortures, which, when they were first unveiled to the knowledge of mankind, sent a groan of sympathizing horror through the world. Then, with regard to the prophecies concerning Popery, a feeling is prevailing in the world, that their doom is at length fulfilled, in the annihilation of that gigantic and overshadowing despotism. The foot of Rome is no longer on the neck of kings; on the contrary, its very head is bowed to the dust, before a power that it once commanded. Nothing could be more deplorable than its condition. The vials of wrath are indeed poured out upon the very seat and throne of the papal hierarchy; the nobles of the land are reduced to poverty, and the poor of the land to beggary; its fields, its plains, once cultivated like a garden, and covered with villas, now lie waste, dispeopled, desolate, under the pestilential breath of the malaria; its villages are falling into ruins; the moment you cross the boundary line, you recognise the places that belong to the patrimony of the church, by their utter misery.

These circumstances of the religion, at its very fountain head, must satisfy, it would seem, the most confident denouncer or interpreter of Heaven's judgments upon Popery; they present a combination of evils, calamities, and woes, which cannot fall much short of a fulfilment of all the maledictions that can have been found or fancied to exist in the prophecies. At the same time a profounder study of Scripture has had the effect to bring some doubt upon those exact constructions, by which numbers, and dates, and persons, and places, and events, have been so particularly laid down in the chart of the expositor. So that, on the whole, there is a large and increasing number of Protestants, who do not feel at liberty to pursue, with pity or horror, the Catholic of these days, as if he were a mark for the displeasure of Heaven. The consequence is, that the Catholics are coming, with many, to take their place among Christian sects, and to be judged of with that degree of candour, limited enough, indeed, which differing sects are accustomed to deal out to one another.

Another circumstance which invites attention to this subject is, that the Catholic religion seems, at this moment, to be making some progress in the world. It is, indeed, a singular fact, that, at this very moment, when the religion is dying at its heart, it is flourishing in its members. It has made some distinguished converts in Germany within a few years past; it is gaining rather than losing credit and influence in Great Britain; and it is said to be gaining numbers in America. A good deal of apprehension, it is well known, has been felt by some classes of Christians among us, concerning this spread of the Catholic faith in the United States. The great effort made in the Atlantic states, to establish Sunday Schools in the Valley of the Mississippi, sprung, no doubt, from this apprehension. It has overrated, I have no doubt, both the means of the Catholics and their increase. The increase has been occasioned by emigration, and therefore is no increase; or by the natural growth of population, and therefore is no evidence of progress. Of actual conversions to Popery, I imagine there are very few in our country, for it is not a country to favour them: and even if there were more than there are, or are alleged to be, I still should not partake of the general alarm, because I believe there is a

spirit in our institutions which will sooner or later control the power, and correct the errors, of every sect. There may be a sect in our country, and a large and flourishing sect, denominated the Catholic; but it is not, and never can be, the despotic institution that it has been in ether countries. Its power over its own members must constantly decline. Then, as to its means for propagating its faith, the report of immense appropriations for this purpose, by the mother church, was never anything, I believe, but rumour; it is not of a nature to be verified: and the exchequer of Rome is too poor to give any colour of probability to the statement.

The growing candour, then, of the Protestant world, and the growing strength of the Catholic interest, have both prepared the public mind, and pressed it, to examine the claims of this form of Christianity. And I mean now its claims, not to infallibility, not to supremacy, not to being, in preference to any other form of Christianity, a Heavenappointed institution-claims, which the Protestant world is scarcely disposed to consider-but its claims, in common with other modes of church order, ritual, and usage, and other means of spiritual influence and practical virtue, to the common respect and sympathy of Christians. It has peculiar usages; and it sets up pretensions to peculiar virtue-to a virtue that springs exclusively from its own system. This last, too, is a point which has made an impression on the minds of some good Protestants; and it is, moreover, and most truly, the most interesting point of inquiry that could arise between the two parties. For if there be something in the Catholic system, or some divine influence especially connected with it, which produces a virtue superior to all other virtues if this be really and undoubtedly so-why, truly we have nothing to do but to return as fast as we can to the bosom of the ancient mother church.

Now, this is precisely what many Catholics allege, and some Protestants seem disposed to admit. I do not say that this admission has been public, or has appeared in any writings; but I have observed in conversation, and I think others must have observed, a growing disposition to do justice, and, as I conceive, more than justice, to the virtues of the Catholics. It is, in part, a reaction, no doubt, from the old severity; but I think it arises, in part, from a neglect to make the proper discriminations.

But what are the virtues, in whose behalf this claim of superiority is set up? They may be stated to be generally, the virtues of devotees, and of the religious orders. Where, it is said, is there anything like the virtue of the Sisters of Charity, a society of females, composed partly of the high-born and wealthy, partly of the young and beautiful -whose members devote themselves to the humblest offices, in hospitals and almshouses, without remuneration and without fame? So, again, if the traveller finds himself upon some lonely desert, or upon some almost inaccessible mountain, where he is liable to be overwhelmed by the sands of Africa, or the snows of Switzerland-if, I say, the traveller finds in either spot a house of refuge, and good people living there on purpose to rescue him, the house of refuge, it is likely, he will discover to be a monastery, of the order of St. Benedict, or St. Augustine. What hosts of missionaries, again it is said, has the Catholic church sent out into all parts of the world—compared with which, the company

And not like Protestant

of Protestant missionaries is a mere handful. missionaries have they gone out, carrying home and household gods with them, but alone have they gone and lived among the heathen in their families, and learned their manners, and thus gained over them the greatest influence. And what, it is said still further, what are all Catholic priests but missionaries in a sort, subject to the absolute command of their superiors, going far or near, without hesitation or question, as the interest of the church requires going alone through life, without domestic endearments, without home, without those first gratifications of the heart which all other men demand as their right? How often, too-and this is the physician's testimony-how often is the Catholic priest found by the beds of the dying, spending hours, sometimes days and nights there, that he may administer the last rites of his religion.

Far be it from me to detract anything from real merit-far be it from me to detract anything from its just measure and its full desert, wherever it may be found. Nay, not to detract from it is little. To acknowledge virtue, to enjoy it, to delight in it, to bless, to cherish it as the richest treasure of the world-let me tread what land I may, Catholic or Protestant-let me dwell in Rome or in Geneva- this is the spirit in which I would see mankind everywhere. That there are virtues among the Catholics which deserve to be thus regarded, I have no doubt. But it does not follow that they are superior to the virtues of all other Christians. And since this is an inference which some are disposed to think very plausible from the facts, I shall turn from the pleasure of beholding and admiring the virtues of my Catholic brethren, to the duty, much less agreeable certainly, of making some strictures upon them. And I confess that my doubts about the Catholic claim of superior virtue, fixes upon the very point where its main stress is laid-its peculiarity-its extraordinariness. I do not know that Catholics say, or that anybody else says, that they are better men than others in the ordinary duties and relations of life. But the point that has been pressed upon me in the colleges of Rome, and that is put forward elsewhere is, that the special services of religion are more faithfully attended upon by Catholics, that extraordinary sacrifices and enterprises are more common among them; that no other church can show religious orders devoted to charity and prayer. Nay, it is so arranged among the different religious orders, that prayers shall never cease-some rising in the night watches to continue them, so that the devotions of the church may be uninterrupted and perpetual. then, is the case; and I frankly say that I do not like the aspect of it. It is not well or safe for any sect to take this ground. The stress laid here is the grand error, as it seems to me of the Catholic system, considered as a religious system.

This,

The most remarkable thing about Christian virtue, whether we see it in the precept or the example of its great Teacher, is its fair order, its full proportion, its easy adaptation to all circumstances, its fidelity to all relations and trusts, in fine, its simplicity, consistency, and universality. It is always doing good. It is always speaking, it is always acting, rightly. It is so constantly manifesting itself, as scarcely to attract any notice. This even and unvarying tenour of a good life has not the splendour, the glare that belongs to some one department of

benevolent exertion; it does not, therefore, draw as much observation upon it; it is not so much admired; but we read, that "the kingdom of heaven cometh not with observation." That calm, equal, silent restraint laid upon the passions; that habitual self-controul and devotion, by which ambition, pride, conceit, selfishness, sensuality, are all kept down, and the whole character is subdued to meekness, forbearance, and tenderness; let no man doubt that the time may come, when far-famed philanthropy, and flaming martyrdom, and maceration, and fasting, and prayer, and every canonized virtue, will fall far behind it. The worth of these virtues I do not deny. I only deny their claim to superior worth. I deny that they are likely to be superior. Nay, I contend that extraordinary virtues are very liable to be partial and defective that they are very liable to pay some of the penalties that usually attach to what is extraordinary in character. How often is great zeal for religion deformed by passion; much praying connected with much peevishness; great sanctity marred by equal pride, and singular philanthropy tainted by vanity and affectation!

I distrust, therefore, the claim of the Catholic to superior virtue, precisely because he puts that claim upon extraordinary ground-upon ground removed from the ordinary path of life. And certainly I distrust all similar pretensions set up by Protestant sects, for the same reason. It is surprising to observe what stress is laid, in Catholic discourses, upon the single virtue of almsgiving. It seems to be enforced, almost as if it were a substitute for all other virtues, as if it covered a multitude of sins; and I fear it is often practised with a view to its answering both purposes. It is said that mendicants throng the church doors, in Catholic countries, in confident reliance upon this wellknown fact that good Catholics often leave their dwellings to attend church, with a vow on their own part, or an injunction from their confessor, to bestow charity, right or wrong, with cause or without, on somebody. Now, surely the real question about virtue is, not whether a man does one thing well, but whether he doeth all things well; not whether he is a good devotee, but whether he is a good and devoted man in every relation and situation; not whether there are some good and self-denying monks and priests in Catholic countries, but whether the whole population of those countries is singularly self-denying, and virtuous. Nay, he who shuts himself up in peculiarity, whether Judaical, Popish, Protestant, or Puritanical, so far cuts himself off from the means and opportunities of a noble and generous virtue. He who selects a particular sphere of operation, and sums up all his virtue in that, as also he who retires to a monastery, flies from the great conflict of life, from the battle-field of virtue-flies, I say, from the very field where the most glorious deeds are to be done, and the most glorious victories are to be gained. And it is absurd for him, or his friends for him, to demand admiration; he ought to be content, if he can escape censure: it is as absurd for him to challenge admiration, as it would be for him who fled before his country's enemies, to lay claim to similar homage.

In fact, I must ask, whether these vaunted virtues of Catholic piety, are not very apt to be factitious? Suppose, for instance, that a man should do a right action, under the fear of instant death for disobedience, or in the certain hope of heaven, as the reward of his fidelity in