It is hard to say, whether the profaneness of the latter part of this passage, or the immorality of the principle it is brought to justify, be the more shocking. But what sort of notion can Mr. Newman have of the nature of truth and falsehood? "A lie

Really it reminds used to say, that

the nearest approach to truth!” one of the old gentleman who people complained he was always half a note out of tune; but, for his part, he was not a very good judge of music, but he thought that was coming pretty near the mark.-And to touch, in passing, on another point. Some people are exceedingly sensitive when Mr. Newman's name is irreverently handled, or his integrity questioned. I have already stated that I have always disliked allowing this discussion to assume a personal form. But really, Mr. Newman's partisans would do well to ask themselves, what they would think or say, if they should find such a deliberate attempt to justify falsehood and dishonesty in the columns of the Record.

The whole subject is in truth most painful and humiliating; and in its consequences, it is impossible to calculate the amount of mischief which the system propagated by this party is likely to effect. Nor is it merely from the revulsion produced by their extravagancies and Romanizings,-carrying the public headlong into the extremes of Latitudinarianism, giving occasion for the enemies of Episcopacy and the Church of England to triumph,—

terrifying and disgusting serious and inquiring persons, setting the laity against the bishops, and the clergy against their congregations:-these are not all the evils to be apprehended; but over and above all these, are the consequences resulting from the erroneous nature of their teaching regarding celibacy and mortifications. The former topic I have already touched on more than once, though not oftener than the extreme importance of the subject demands. For, certainly, it would be absurd to expect any other effects than such as one cannot bear to dwell on, if the notions advocated by this school are suffered to be instilled into the minds

of children and young persons. Besides, as I have already observed,—and a most serious consideration it is, they are casting suspicion over persons of truly respectable character. While, at the same time, their mode of caricaturing the habits of self-denial and making them odious, by the pharisaical spirit of display with which they are connected, on the one hand, and the fearfully erroneous doctrine of expiatory penance they are mixed up with,-on the other,—cannot but furnish the worldly and self-indulgent with plausible excuses for closing their hearts against the true and scriptural doctrine of the cross. Hard it is at all times to induce the luxurious and extravagant to remember, that there is a real meaning in denying one's self daily, and bearing the cross of our Master,

and crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts. Men are ready enough to put from them the consideration of such duties as these-too ready to seize a plausible excuse for rejecting them on principle. And certainly, if Mr. Newman and his party had intended to make self-denial ridiculous and suspicious-as nothing better than popery and fanaticism, I can hardly imagine what more effectual methods they could have taken.

CHAPTER XXII.

THESE WRITERS MISREPRESENT THE CHARACTERS OF THE SAINTS-ST. WULSTAN AND THE GOOSE.

In addition to the mischievous effects I have already noticed, as likely to result from the extraordinary manner in which Mr. Newman and his friends are dealing with the history of the English church, there is one which can hardly fail to have struck most readers, and which, to my own knowledge, several excellent persons have already felt and deplored. It is this-that, by the colouring which their own fanaticism has given to their Lives of the English Saints, these authors are associating with ridiculous and grotesque ideas, names which for ages had been regarded with affection and respect. Even among those who were wholly unacquainted with the particular circumstances of the history of the subjects of this series of biography, there was a sort of traditional veneration, a vague and undefined impression that these were good and holy men, who, in their generation, amidst more or less of error and credulity, loved God and served their fellowcreatures. And, with the majority, this feeling has outlived the memory of everything about them but their names, and weathered out the storms of civil and religious revolutions. But now, even this as

sociation of affection with these ancient servants of God is likely soon to be destroyed; and, what with the legends these volumes contain of pharisaical devotions, fanatical austerities, and grotesque miracles, before these writers have finished their pernicious labours, many a one whom we and our fathers have thought of only as wise and holy men, will come to be considered as little better than hypocrites and fanatics-in fact, as a species of spiritual mountebanks, whose piety seemed as if contrived for the purpose of making religion ridiculous. And, when to this are added the other ill effects of these works, their erroneous notions regarding celibacy, marriage, monkery, and expiatory penance-and their constant uniform design to advance the interests of the see of Rome, it is greatly to be feared, that, by the time they have done, every remnant of what deserves to be called catholic feeling, will be in a fair way of being banished from the country.

How many, for example, are there, who, if they were asked who St. Wulstan was, or where he' lived, could tell very little, if anything, about him;—yet have a traditional feeling of respect for his memory, as one who served God and was a benefactor to his generation. And those who know a little more have probably been in the habit of clinging to the hope, that he was a wiser man than his historians. But are such feelings likely to survive the stories which disfigure his memory in this