led to distrust its ancient faith; when they enter that sphere, let them hush. The author of this work admits the full force of skeptical arguments, whenever they are founded in truth. He seems so sure of his cause, that he does not wish to rely on aught which does not bear the severest test. Accordingly, he betrays no alarm when certain statements that have long been relied on are shown to be defective; he clearly makes use of no reasons, adapted to the presumed weakness of his opponent, which are without force to his own mind; he will not " bring to the God of truth the unclean sacrifice of a lie ;" and, in this manner, he gives a peculiar weight and authority to the conclusions which he adopts; so that their force is most speedily felt by the strongest minds. Neither does he ever seek to evade the precise point on which the subject turns. More distinctly than most writers on theological questions does he perceive the true issue; and when he once states what it is, he does not leave it, without doing his best to despatch it entirely. It is small praise to say, that he refrains from regarding as a crime the unbelief which he would remove. On this account, the present work will be favorably listened to by many, whom no persuasion can induce to enter the walls of a church, and who look with suspicion on the teachings of most of the professed advocates of religion. And they who are not converted by the reasonings here exhibited, with Elwood, will at least meet with much to stimulate them to further inquiry; they may find an aspect of religion, which they had not considered before; and new thought may at length give birth to new faith. R. THE LAST FAREWELL. Lines written while sailing out of Boston Harbor for the West Indies. FAREWELL, ye lofty spires, That broke the gloom of night! Farewell the busy town, Far away, far away. Farewell, my mother fond, Farewell, my brothers true, Rude ocean doth us part, We separate to-day, Far away, far away. Farewell I breathe again To dim New England's shore; Edward Bliss 1832 ERNEST THE SEEKER. CHAPTER FIRST. "Truth's lovely form, that once was a perfect shape most glorious to look upon, was hewed into a thousand pieces, and scattered to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends of truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down, gathering limb by limb still as they could find them.". MILTON. "CONSTANT's journal from Rome, mother," said Ernest, as he broke the seals of a package, package, "now shall you know this friend of mine, 'His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, His tears pure messengers sent from his heart, His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth."" "Ah! Ernest! This mania of tolerance and manysidedness, as you call it, will keep your mind in such a chaos, I fear, that the Spirit of God will never move on the face of the waters, and say, 'Let there be light.' What can interest you so much in this young priest? He always seemed to me to have his mother's enthusiasm, and gentle as she was, I certainly thought her crazed, as she glided about in her dark robes, like a devotee or sister of charity." "Constant made me his friend by a well timed rebuke, mother," said Ernest, as he took a letter from his desk, and read as follows: "MY DEAR SIR, "The heart knoweth its own bitterness,' and may heaven preserve you from ever feeling the pain, which an expression of yours to-day occasioned me. I complain of no purposed unkindness, for probably you are ignorant that I am a Catholic; but I pray you, never say again that our priests are knaves or fools,' till you have proved the justice of your charge. It is my dearest hope to be admitted to the holy office. I vowed to consecrate my life to it, as I knelt by my mother's death-bed. I was bred up in the Episcopal church, of which both my parents were members, till I was fourteen years of age. At this time my poor father became so ill, that he was advised to winter in Palermo. My mother of course accompanied him. I need not dwell upon the sad history. He rapidly declined; and it was in these dark hours, that my mother's mind was called, as she saw him on whom she had rested passing in weakness away, to turn for support to the friend who never withdraws, and to hope for reunion in heavenly homes with the beloved one whom affection could not retain on earth. She sought relief in the services of the nearest church. The touching symbols of these holy rites. deeply affected her; and in her loneliness she appealed to the sympathy of the Confessor. He visited them; and before the last change came, my mother had the divine joy of receiving together with my father the sacrament of the Eucharist; of seeing the extreme unction administered to him in his agony; and after his spirit had departed, of having the body buried in consecrated ground, and of joining in sublime and consoling masses for his eternal peace. You will believe me when I say she returned home sanctified by her sorrows. I was her only child, and we became inseparable companions. She directed my studies, she guided my prayers, she made me her helper in her works of benevolence; and heaven forgive me! if as I looked up in her sweet face, becoming ever more spiritual as it day by day grew thinner and paler, and into those eyes so calmly bright, as if the light of another life beamed through them, and listened to her tones so musical and mild, that my heart melted, -heaven forgive me! if I worshipped her. My mother must ever be to me a saint. She, as her dying legacy, prayed that I might become an honored minister of God. In a few years, heaven willing, I shall be a Priest; alas! how unworthy a one, in contrast with the blessed thousands who through centuries have offered the perfect sacrifice. CONSTANT SEYMOUR." "There speaks at least a good son. You will hear the journal now, will you not? The words of one so fervent, even if deluded, 'Enforce attention like sweet harmony.'" "Rome, Dec. 10. "Laus Deo! Arrived this morning, and am now quietly established at the college. The huge building, with its massive stones, projecting cornices, and heavy carved windows, looked gloomy as I entered; and as our footsteps echoed through the silent court and long passages, the thought saddened me, that so many years were to be passed beneath these solemn shades. But the paternal welcome of Father B., and the courteous demeanor of my fellow students, quite cheered my spirits; and now that I have once joined in worship in our beautiful little chapel, and have arranged my apartment, I feel at home. I like this high ceiling, this deep window, with its diamond shaped panes, and these oaken pannels dark with age. In the sacred recess I have placed my Corregio's Agony in the Garden; Fenelon's placid face smiles over my table; my mother's copy of à Kempis is lying by my side; and more than all, dearest mother, thy gentle look blesses me from this miniature. Well may I feel happy, in striving to fulfil your dying wish! Ad te levavi oculos meos. "After Vespers walked with a friend to the Pincian. The sun was setting, as we climbed the long ascent of steps; and we reached the summit just in time to see the golden rim disappear behind the ridge on the west of the city, where umbrella pines stood strongly marked against the sky. A haze of glory, such as Claude so often dipped his brush in, hung for a moment like a brilliant veil over the wilderness of roofs beneath us; but as the shadows spread, the scene grew clearer, and I took my first survey of the Holy City. In front, at the distance of a mile, swelled sublime the dark dome of St. Peter's, flanked by the far stretching wings of the Vatican. Nearer rose the round tower of St. Angelo, and, winding at its foot, the Tiber was revealed by its reflection of the still bright heaven; while to the left stood the columns of Trajan and of Antonine with the bronze apostle on its top, and the eye rested on the low arched roof of the Pantheon. It was no dream! I, a child from a far land, was really taken home to the bosom of the mighty mother, who has fed the world with her holiness, and learning, and art. Beneath that soaring dome, so gracefully light, yet so firm, were at this moment |