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ritual duty." "I thought," said I," that this principle was exploded;" Yes, for the present; but, as you are fond of illus trations, like my good coat, it is only lying by: thank God, however, the principle wont rot by length of time or disuse." "But what" said I, "if the public mind should happen to outgrow it?" That, James," said he, is keeping up the metaphor I grant but we have come forward the other day, and declared that the Pope has no temporal authority over us-but sure the spiritual authority is the thing-for don't you see, now, how the withholding of our civil allegiance to the king could be resolved into a spiritual duty to the Pope or to the church: Protestants, however, particularly Englishmen, blunder this affair to our very hearts content, for they never see this, thank God, nor make the distinction at all." This, Sir," I observed, “in a national and political point of view, is a dangerous doctrine, I should think." "May I never die in sin, but its a shame for Susey to keep such tread as this: for my part, I can't sew the rent in my gown with it at all its so rotten-What's that you say, James? why indeed there was some blood shed by it; but that was not the fault of the principle, but of those who refused to recognize it at any rate, if such an authority had not been conferred on the church, how could the Christian religion ever have been established under crown heads that were opposed to its introduction among their subjects. It was therefore on this principle that the first converts acted, for had they obeyed the duties they originally owed, you know they never could have embraced the Christian faith." 66 Then," I replied, "such of them as did not embrace it bowed to the authority of the religious establishments under which they lived, and rejected truth from pre-existing prejudice; and such of them as did embrace it asserted the liberty of thinking for themselves, and compared the truth of the Christian dispensation with that of their own former code. They first exercised their judgments and then decided-I think, Sir, that all this was very fair." I here received another smile and look so bland and approbative, that I set them down as the very acme, the ne plus ultra of suavity. "I think," continued I, "that if the obedience which you approve be founded on that principle, it commends itself to every rational mind." "Yes, James," said he, "but it was not exclusively on that principle they proceeded; for instance, their departure from the authority which previously bound them was wrong in itself, and it was only the circumstance of the Christian religion being true, that constituted their merit. In the act, considered abstractly, of embracing a new religion and rejecting the authority of their own, they were positively wrong, but relatively right; therefore the act itself, I repeat, was improper, but the relation it had to the religion of Christ gave it accidental rectitude. You will understand this," he added, " by supposing that the religion of Christ which they embraced was not true; in that case, the error of despising authority appears at once, inasmuch, as they created disorder, gave scandal in society, and probably brought punishment on themselves, in a matter where the distinction between

two opinions was but the difference between error and error. In that case I say the impropriety of despising authority is evident enough. But if we suppose that the religion which is embraced be wrong, and that which is rejected right, the evil of the principle, as a guide in human conduct appears at once-for here not only all the temporal evils and disorders I have just alluded to are produced, but a spiritual loss, that of the immortal soul, the greatest that can be suffered, is sustained." "But surely Father A―, you do not mean to say that the religion of Christ justifies error in any circumstances, or that what is intrinsically wrong can ever become right by a connexion with divine truth, even if such a connexion could be supposed? You admit that the first converts from heathenism were right in recognizing an infallible spiritual authority in the church which they entered, yet you assert, that by the immediate act of loosening themselves from the bonds of their original condition, they were guilty of a positive error, and lastly, you say that the truth of the Christian religion gave that error rectitude and integrity!" "James, my dear, you are gone astray upon the question; you will recollect I spoke of the principle in the abstract-but I am not surprised that you do not understand it, for it is one of great difficulty-indeed it is the principle upon which the just not the political or supposed rights of princes and the security of the Church depend; but, James, I hope you have given the study of the Scriptures up as I desired you ?" "I do not read them," I replied, "as a study; but simply for edification and spiritual improvement." "That, my dear, in the sight of God is not at all necessary, for you know they should not be read indiscriminately, and consequently the distinction between religious improvement and scriptural knowledge cannot be admitted: but your merit is still the same, inasmuch as you possess the will and the intention.” How is that," I enquired? "Why in some circumstances, James-will you thread this needle for me, and I'll not trouble you again, you see I'm just done-in some circumstances, it happens that rectitude of intention cannot be carried into practical effect, without violating a regulation which is right in itself, or right from expediency; in either case the existence of the intention possesses equal merit in the sight of God-but remember, my dear, that with respect to the Scriptures, your intention will be accepted, and that your obedience on this point is a greater virtue than your desire to edify yourself by their perusal." When I considered this morality closely, I felt strongly disposed to doubt its purity and correctness-in fact I saw it was accommodating and equivocal, and might actually be applied to justify the commission of a crime as well as the performance of a virtue. But the man who advanced it was so artless, so mild and unsuspecting in his manner-the expression of his countenance was so innocent-his smile so benevolent-his temper so easy and indulgent-his old gown too was so harmlessly embrowned with snuff before, and so carelessly daubed with powder behind, that I felt it impossible to believe that a person of such innocence and simplicity could be conscious of the nature and tendency of such doctrines, and continue to advance them. The very rent in his

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gown, so untidily mended by his own clumsy fingers, in obstinate opposition to my father's offer of getting all his mischances of that nature done by a taylor-and the hole in his stockings, which he darned with stitches an inch long, during the latter part of our conversation, extinguished every inclination on my part to charge his heart with that dangerous and subtle casuistry which ran through his opinions.

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I was now able to venture out, and the first thing I determined on was to pay Dr. Upton's family a visit. As I myself had not hitherto given Father A or my parents the slightest hope that I would ever fulfil their vow, I consequently could not suspect that any intimation of an intention to break the engagement which bound Miss Upton and me would have been made by my parents to Dr. Upton. But I was mistaken, for this, through the medium and at the suggestion of Father A— had been already effected. When I went to the Doctor's, I was shown into the parlour, where the Doctor himself, who happened to be at home, soon came to me. On entering the hall, I caught a glimpse of Ellen as she ascended the stairs, and I thought she was leaning on her mother for support. When the Doctor entered, I immediately observed that his manners were markedly different from what they had usually been; but he appeared to be a man more in sorrow than in anger. His reception of me was grave and polite; but every instance of his ceremony chilled me to the heart. I enquired after Mrs. Upton and Ellen, and asked if they were within-the Doctor glanced at me, surprised at the enquiry, and perplexed as to the reply he should make. "Are you aware, Mr. Butler," he said, 5 of certain communications we have received from your family?" No, Sir," I replied, "I am not aware of any communication that may have passed between you-although, to speak candidly, now that you say it has been made, I think I can guess its import. If its tendency be to prevent the union contemplated between Miss Upton and me, Sir, it shall never have my consent; on that union my heart is fixed, and although it certainly rends my soul to act contrary to the inclination of my parents, yet even under the present circumstances, I do not think I am called upon to give up every rational prospect of happiness, merely to comply with am injunction for which I think the Almighty himself has given no parent an authority." The Doctor heard me with calmness, and seemed relieved, if not affected, by what I had said. "I will not deny," he said, "Mr. Butler, but that I am sorry the union between our families should be so unexpectedly interrupted; many men in my circumstances would not tamely submit to a decision so arbitrary, and, I will say, unjust-where the laws of the country are accessible to those who suffer by injustice: but I am sincerely glad to find that you are not a party in it-yet even if you were, Sir, I should scorn to seek a mercenary compensation for the peace and happiness of my daughter-whatever she may suffer, or we through her, shall be borne, I trust with firmness, if not with dignity." "Dr. Upton," I replied, "I and Miss Upton are chieffy concerned in this matter; do you and Mrs. Upton continue your sanction to our engagement-I ask no more: I

pledge myself, that neither her happiness nor mine shall be sported with." "After the repeated communications, Mr. Butler, which have been made to me, through Father A——, from your parents, I cannot, without meanness, permit an intercourse between you and my daughter against their consent-it is impossible-I have already acquainted her with my decision-I now inform you it is final, and I trust after this, you will have too much honour to attempt it. Good morning, James, you know I have my patients to attend; excuse me, therefore, for putting an end to the conversation." He instantly withdrew, and left me, after this most unexpected determination, in a state of mind very difficult to describe or conceive.

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A few days afterwards Father A- came into this room, where, since my interview with Dr. Upton, I had spent the most of my time. "James, my dear," said he, "you were at Dr. Upton's the other day ?" "Yes, Sir," said 1, "I ventured over that far." "I saw the Doctor yesterday," he replied, "he is a very sensible, but a very proud, and I should think, a very obstinate man, still I believe he is fair and rational." "I always thought him so," I observed. "I met him yesterday," he continued, coming from poor M'Manus's-may I be happy, James, but you must get some coarse bits of meat and vegetables sent over to that man: the poor creature, now that he's recovering, will want something to strengthen him." "I shall certainly do so," said I," but Father A, why did not you speak of it sooner ?" "Why may I never do harm, but I totally forgot it, you know I'm so forgetful."- -"But you mentioned Doctor Upton."-" Oh! true; I did so indeed, yes, he met me coming from M'Manus's: I bade him the time o'day, and was passing, when he stopped me to say that you had been over there: he then informed me of the conversation that passed between you and him, and added, that taking every thing into consideration, he thought matters were better as they are, particularly,' said he, as my daughter bears it so well.' I wished, Father A-, to make my determination on the business appear as inoffensive as possible to Mr. Butler; but what is made, is made,' said he, and after the insult my daugh. ter has received, no power on earth shall ever induce me to consent to their union;' 'may I never sin, James, but I think they're glad of it,'Just as we were talking, Miss Upton and a well-looking young man passed us on horse-back-he was in a military undress -she's an interesting girl enough, but I don't like too much spirits, nor too much rantipole mirth in a young woman, so I don'tI could indeed allow them a laugh at my old gown; for God knows, I trust I'm above resenting such trials; but I don't like the thing itself, except in moderation ;-No, God forbid I should not be able to bear that rub-I have borne much more in my time, James, and so I would fain have told that scamp of an officer, who by the way does not know how to sit a horse as he ought to do." "Are you sure it was Miss Upton ?" I enquired,—“Indeed if he had seen himself, with a body on him like an hour-glass, he wouldn't titter over his shoulder at me or my gown; nor did I ex

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pect Miss Upton would have-but no matter-I can bear it with patience, with Christian fortitude, I hope, and I would do so, if it were only to vex them." "It could not possibly have been Miss Upton," I observed." But, bless me, I forgot, your mother is gone to bed, unwell." "What is the matter with her ?" I enquired. " Do you take a horse, and go for Dr. Jackson, as fast as possible," he continued; " for I fear she has caught this complaint that is so prevalent.' "My dear Father A" said I, are not serious?" "I am," said he, " you have not a moment to lose, I fear she has the cholera morbus." Although Father A- -'s conversation had given me inexpressible uneasiness amounting almost to anguish, yet the apprehension resulting from so terrible a malady occasioned a transition of anxiety not less afflicting. I went immediately to my mother's room, and found her in much bodily pain; my father was sitting beside her bed in the greatest agony, for he loved her with uncommon tenderness. I lost no time in repairing for medical aid, which was soon procured, as Doctor Jackson was fortunately at home. On my way, however, I could not help reverting, despite of every other consideration, to the account of Miss Upton's good spirits, which Father A- had given me. Need I say that it sent daggers to my heart? for that she should bear an incident which plunged me into misery and anguish, with such indifference, if not good humour, was a consideration which I could not endure. Then from the de

scription given by Father A- of the officer, I knew him at once to be a young man of considerable expectations, who had been an unsuccessful suitor of Miss Upton's some time before. This aroused my jealousy and my pride;" Well," thought I, “if she can so soon forget the attachment which she avowed to me, I shall certainly endeavour not to be out-done in philosophy upon the occasion." When Doctor Jackson and I arrived at my father's we found my mother in an alarming state-so alarming indeed, that the Doctor at once declared there were very slight hopes, if any, of her recovery. From the moment my mother became ill, Father A paid her the strictest attention, as her religious director and confessor; and as death approached her the terror of her unaccomplished vow seemed to hang, like the arm of almighty vengeance, over her soul. I myself indeed began to partake of the alarm, for the pain she suffered, and the apprehension of being deprived of so gentle, affectionate, and kind a mother, softened my heart, and rendered me insensible to every other consideration. Tis true I delayed my compliance as long as I thought there could be any hope of her surviving the complaint, for I wished not, putting Miss Upton out of the question, to bind myself with so rash and unreasonable an obligation. But the hour soon arrived when the love I bore my mother overcame all my determinations against it. The third morning after her illness, I had laid my head down on the sofa, for I sat up the night before, and was just falling into a slumber, when Father A- entered in great agitation, to bring me to take my last farewell of my mother. I started to my feet in an instant, and accompanied him to her bed side; I remarked