chanting they bore the body in procession to the church. A note informs the reader that

"The acts of St. Helier are so confused, that it is impossible to make out what is the place here meant."-p. 32.

And yet, though the tale bears such unmistakeable marks of falsehood and imposture, the author says:

"An invisible hand had unmoored the vessel, and angels had guided it through rapid currents and past bristling rocks; and it swam on alone over the surface of the sea, till it came safely to the harbour where the saint was to rest.”—Ibid.

And this is not all; for, in the introduction, he meets the question of this particular miracle boldly and at some length. A person who had a real reverence for religion, and who felt that awe which every devout mind must feel in the use he makes of the name of his Creator, considering the manifestly fictitious character of the only authority he had to go on, would surely have been willing, if he must retail such a story at all, to hazard any conjecture, rather than profane the name of the Almighty, by using it for the purpose of giving an air of sanctity to such a clumsy fable. And, for instance, he might have conjectured, and it would have been anything but an improbable conjecture, that the murderers had, out of sheer wantonness, insulted the corpse of their victim by leaving the body on the shore with the head between the hands. However, the reader shall see how this author treats the question:

As for St. Helier's carrying his head in his hands, it may be observed that the writer only represents the story as a conjecture of the priest who attended on the saint."

Very well; and, considering the age and character of "the Simple Chronicler," this is a tolerably fair apology for him. But what apology is this for the author of this new life, who, knowing that it is not possible to prove that the story is true, much less, that there was any miracle in the transaction, deliberately ascribes the transmission of the vessel and its burden to the agency of angels, as if the facts were unquestionably true? It is with this modern biographer, and not with "the Simple Chronicler," we have to do just at present. He proceeds

"And it may here be mentioned that besides this of St. Helier, only three other instances have been found by us of similar legends, the well-known story of St. Denys, that of St. Winifred, and that of St. Liverius, martyred by the Huns at Metz, A.D. 450, and mentioned in one martyrology, on the 25th of November. Of these four instances, that which is the best known, seems, though occurring in the Roman Breviary, to be tacitly or avowedly given up by most writers on the subject; and all, except the instance of St. Winifred, which may perhaps be considered in another place, are introduced to account for the removal of the body of a saint from the place of his martyrdom. If there were not also a want of evidence for these stories, this alone would not of course authorize us to mistrust them, for none would presume to limit the power of Almighty God or His favours to His Saints. As however they are related by writers far distant from the time when the events are said to have occurred, it may be allowed to class them among mythic legends. Into this form threw itself the strong belief of those faithful ages in the Christian truth, that the bodies of Saints, the temples of the Holy Ghost, are under the special keeping of God, and that these precious vessels are one day to be again alive, and to be glorified for ever with the saintly souls, which without these are not perfeet. The bodies of saints have without doubt been kept incorrupt, as though life was still in them, and the belief that they had sometimes by God's power moved as though they were alive, was only a step beyond that fact.”—pp. 11, 12.

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Now, to all this laborious effort to strip falsehood of its guilt and mystify a very plain and simple question, the reply is obvious. No one has any anxiety to exaggerate the faults of the medieval authors and writers of legends. It is very clear, however, that if "these faithful ages" had been possessed with a sufficiently "strong belief" of a "Christian truth," which some persons seem in danger of forgetting-namely, that God abhors lying, and that to couple the name of the Almighty with a falsehood is to take his name in vain-their strong belief" would most probably have thrown itself into the form of making a bonfire of their legends, and the world would now have been spared the melancholy spectacle of clergymen of the church of England making use of such palpable and disgusting fictions to propagate the errors of Rome. It was an unsound and unhealthy state of mind when men, who feared God, thought to honour him by going "only a step beyond" any "fact," in their relation of anything where His name was involved. But one has no wish to inquire too curiously into the faults of a remote age. We have to do with the present-with living men-and an energizing system, and therefore it is absolutely neces sary to speak plainly. If Christianity is to be propagated by mythic legends, and going a step beyond facts, it requires but little sagacity to perceive the consequences. And, further, if people dream of being at liberty to write church history with as little regard to truth, as if they were writing a fairy tale, where a giant more or less is not a matter of nuch importance; and if folks are not expected to be critical about believing a little more or a little less, no one need be surprised if the transition to Neologianism should be as rapid as it is easy.

But this is a part of the movement which will require a fuller exposure than a passing sentence can give it.

Some portion will explain itself in the Legend of St. Neot, which contains one miracle at least that could not well be passed over. The author commences his work by stating, that,

"It is not pretended that every fact in the following Legend can be supported on sound historical evidence. With the materials which we have, it would not only be presumptuous, but impossible, to attempt to determine anything with any certainty, respecting them; how much is true, how much fiction."

Which, if one did not know how these books are written, would seem designed to prepare the reader for an absence of miraculous stories in the narrative. It seems, by his account, there are five old lives of St. Neot extant, the earliest having been written about a hundred and fifty years after his death, and that "of these the first thing we remark, is a striking disagreement in the details of the several narratives:" and yet, that "all these facts are related with extreme minuteness and accuracy of detail," which two things being put together, would render the authority of the whole rather questionable. The author's reflection is curious:

"Now this, if not the highest evidence in their favour, (which it may be) would seem to indicate that they allowed themselves a latitude in their narratives, and made free use of their imagination to give poetic fulness to their compositions. In other words, their Lives are not so much strict biographies, as myths, edifying stories compiled from tradition, and designed not so much to relate facts, as to produce a religious impression on the mind of the hearer."-p. 74.

What is the value of religious impressions produced in this way, some

will be at no loss to conjecture; but the matter is certain, that these writers do consider it perfectly allowable to compose religious mythsstories, where, supposing the existence of the hero to be assumed as a fact, any quantity of imaginary sayings or doings may be attributed to him-and amongst the rest, miracles and visions, and such events as imply the interposition of the Almighty. The mode in which this is justified will come to be considered hereafter-at present we are concerned only with the fact. And on these slender materials they do think it lawful, not only to construct history and biography, but even to make solemn acts of devotion. The reader, in perusing the following passage, will recollect that this author has nothing to go on for the facts of his story but contradictory and conflicting legends, which he confesses can only be regarded "as myths"-and also that the fact of Athelstan and Neot being one and the same person is a matter which is not certain.

"Prince Athelstan became the monk Neotus; the very meaning of his new title 'the renewed,' implies that his past life was to be as though it had not been; or as the life of another man. In such change is entire revolution of heart and hope and feeling. It is indeed a death; a resurrection; a change from earth on earth to heaven on earth; before he did his duty to God in and through his duty to the world; now what he does for the world is but indirect, but he is permitted a closer union, a more direct service to God. And therefore those good men who gave their labours to commemorate the life of this holy saint, do properly commence their task at this point; and that we too who are permitted to follow in their footsteps may labour in the same reverential spirit as they laboured; let us join with Abbot Ramsay of Croyland and say—

"Forasmuch as it has pleased Almighty God to remove that holy saint Neotus, to the blessed company of saints in heaven, I have undertaken to record such actions as he performed while here on earth; therefore with a deep sense of my own unworthiness for so high a task, I pray to the Fountain of all mercies, that of His infinite goodness He will deign to send me His most gracious help, that I may be enabled to make known such things as are handed down by tradition, concerning this venerable man; and that I may have him for my protector and intercessor in all dangers."—pp. 89, 90.

The first of St. Neot's miracles, which comes under notice, is one which occurred while he was still at Glastonbury, and before he became a hermit. It is told in these words:

"And as time went on, God left him not without special mark of His favour, and not only thus enabled him to scatter His benefits among the people; but that all men might know that such a life as his did indeed raise its possessor above the weaknesses and imperfections of this mortal life, He began to work sensible miracles by

his hand.

"It was the custom of the monks of the Abbey, at the hour of midday, to retire alone to their several cells, for private prayer and meditation. This hour was held sacred, and no communication of any sort was permitted among the brethren. Neot, whose cell was nearest to the great gate of the monastery, was disturbed in his devotions by a violent and continued knocking. On repairing to the grating to ascertain the cause he discovered a person who might not be refused, pressing in haste for admission; he immediately hurried to the door, but, to his confusion and perplexity, he found that from the smallness of his stature he was unable to reach the lock. The knock. ing now became more violent, and Neot, in despair of natural means of success, prayed to God for assistance. Immediately the lock slid gently down the door, until it reached the level of his girdle, and thus he was enabled to open it without further difficulty. This remarkable miracle is said to have been witnessed to by all the brethren, for the lock continued in its place, and the people flocked together from all quarters to see it."-p. 96.

Now this miracle is not only stated here to be a permanent miracle, and one which "people flocked together from all quarters to

see;" but it is also expressly stated, that it was a sensible interposition on the part of God for a particular purpose,-namely, "that all men might know that such a life as his did indeed raise its possessor above the weaknesses and imperfections of this mortal life." The author, therefore, states that this extraordinary and romantic miracle was worked by the Almighty, in order to raise the credit of the monastic life. Does he believe the story to be true? Does he believe it to possess the slightest foundation in fact, or to be supported by the lowest degree of evidence which should procure it a moment's attention from any rational person? If he does not-if he knows (and he avows it) that it is nothing better than a myth, a legend, an untruth, what is to be thought of the system he is labouring to propagate, and of its inevitable effects on Christianity itself? To state that God did anything which one does not believe him to have done, is what no devout or reverent mind could contemplate even in a work of fiction. No name, however high or popular, can give authority for what is manifestly so improper. But to state not only that God has worked a miracle, but that he worked it for a purpose, and to dare to pronounce what that purpose was, all the while knowing and avowing that the whole story is no better than a legend, is a very high and uncommon degree of impiety indeed,-uncommon, at least, in the clergy of the church of England. Another story, which occurs a few pages after, will serve for another example of the sort of miracles by which the church is now pretended to be edified. It is stated that "an angel was sent to St. Neot, at Glastonbury," who conducted him to an hermitage in Cornwall, where he was directed to take up his abode.

"Here, in this lonely spot, he was to spend seven years in a hermit's cell, and live by the labour of his own hands; yet was he not unsupported by Him who had sent him there. From the time of his arrival to the close of his trial, a continuous sensible miracle declared the abiding presence of the favour of God."-p. 99.

Can it be imagined that any one who feared God would write in such a manuer, unless he wished it to be understood, that he was convinced of the truth of the story he was about to relate?

They had spent one night there, and the saint was in the chapel, when Barius came in haste to tell him that three fish were playing in the basin where the fountain rose. St. Neot ordered him on no account to touch them, until he should have himself enquired what this strange thing might mean. In answer to his prayer the same angel appeared, and told him that the fish were there for his use, and that every morning one might be taken and prepared for food; if he faithfully obeyed this command, the supply should never fail, and the same number should even continue in the fountain. And so it was, and ever the three fish were seen to play there, and every morning one was taken and two were left, and every evening were three fish leaping and gamboling in the bubbling stream; therefore did the saint offer nightly praise and thanksgiving, for this so wonderful preservation; and time went on, and ever more and more did St. Neot's holiness grow and expand and blossom."-pp. 99, 100.

This happy arrangement met a very serious interruption, which, however, was the occasion of a miracle more surprising than the former

"His discipline was so strict, and continued with such unrelaxing severity, that on a certain occasion he was taken ill in consequence. The faithful Barius, ever anxious to anticipate his master's smallest want, if by any means some portion of the saintly radiance might so be reflected upon him, was anxious to prepare some food, to be ready for him on his awaking from a sleep into which, after nights of watchfulness, he had at length fallen. Here, however, he was met by a difficulty: his

master's illness had reduced him to a state of extreme delicacy, and he was at a loss how he ought to dress his food. Hastily and incautiously he resorted to a dangerous expedient. Instead of one fish, he took two from the basin, and roasting one and boiling the other, he presented both to St. Neot for choice, on his awaking from his sleep. In dismay and terror the Saint learnt what had been done, and springing from his couch, and ordering Barius instantly to replace both fish as they were in the water, himself spent a night and a day in prayer and humiliation. Then at length were brought the welcome tidings of forgiveness; and Barius joyfully reported that both fish were swimming in the water. After this, his illness left him, and the supply in the fountain continued as before."-pp. 100, 101.

Really, one does not know in what terms to speak of such extravagant absurdities. The continual temptation is to be diverted by the impiety and fanaticism of the author, from that which is the only point deserving serious attention, the character and object of the movement which these books are written for the purpose of advancing.

"In the monastery of Glastonbury he had learnt the mode of self-discipline by which St. Patrick had attained his saintly eminence, and now in his hermitage he almost rivalled him in austerities. Every morning St. Patrick repeated the Psalter through from end to end, with the hymns and canticles, and two hundred prayers. Every day he celebrated mass, and every hour he drew the holy sign across his breast one hundred times; in the first watch of the night he sung a hundred psalms, and knelt two hundred times upon the ground; and at cockcrow he stood in water, until he had said his prayers. Similarly each morning went St. Neot's orisons to heaven from out of his holy well; alike in summer and in the deep winter's cold, bare to his waist, he too each day repeated the Psalter through."-p. 101.

This passage has been already referred to; but it was necessary to transcribe it again, as it explains the following tale :

"One day when he was thus engaged in the depth of winter, he was disturbed by suddenly hearing the noise of a hunting party riding rapidly down the glen. Unwilling that any earthly being should know of his austerities, but only the One who is over all, he sprung hastily from the water and was retiring to his home, when he dropped one of his shoes. He did not wait to pick it up, but hurried off and completed his devotions in secret.

"And when he had finished his psalms, and his reading, and his prayers, with all diligence and care, he remembered his shoe and sent his servant to fetch it. In the meantime a fox, wandering over hill and vale, and curiously prying into every nook and corner, had chanced to come to the place where the holy man had been standing, and had lighted upon the shoe and thought to carry it off. And an angel who loved to hover in hallowed places, and to breathe an atmosphere which was sanctified by the devotions of God's Saints, was present there invisibly and saw this thing, and he would not that such an one as St. Neot should be molested even in so small a matter, so that he had sent the sleep of death upon the fox, and Barius when he came there found him dead, arrested at the instant of his theft, yet holding the thongs of his shoe in his mouth. Then he approached in fear and wonder, and took the shoe and brought it to the holy man, and told him all that had happened."—pp. 101, 102.

Now, one has no desire to treat any miraculous story with ridicule. The subject is too serious. The absurdity and grotesque character of these stories might provoke a smile, were it not that there is a miracle pretended, and that these miracles, whatever their character may be, are alleged for a purpose, namely, to convey the impression, that monastic austerities are pleasing to God, and that there is some peculiar and heroic degree of sanctity in a man's banishing himself from the society of his fellow-christians, and standing in a well or fish-pond every day, all the year round, winter and summer, until he has repeated the Psalter through. This is piety; and when to this one adds the picture given of St. Patrick, that every hour he drew the holy sign across his breast one hundred times (nearly twice every minute