sionate and gentle sympathy shewn, in similar circumstances, by a wise and faithful director. But Kenelm was repelled; and if, as we humbly trust, he ultimately obtained a place in heaven, he was not, alas! assisted in his journey thither, by these admonitions of an ecclesiastic and a parent. The course of the convert's narra tive brings us, at length, to the deathbed side of this amiable and conscientious young man who was "sore let and hindered," in his early aspirations after holiness, by the delu sions of the church in which he was educated. In the twenty-first year of his age he sickened of a typhus fever; and, as it supervened, the melancholy feelings of a former period again oppressed him. His father thus describes the circum stance: Not "He said his scruples, such as he had combated and surmounted three years before, had returned and had distressed him of late, beginning from a time to which he referred; since which time, and, as he believed, from the efforts he had made, he had suffered from a head-ache and pains in his chest and limbs. aware that an illness was at hand which would account for the sensations of which he complained without reference to any mental uneasiness, I endeavoured by reproaches and praises to restore his tranranquillity. You are indebted for your head-ache and other pains to allowing your mind to dwell on useless and groundless apprehensions. Cheerfulness, hope, and gaiety are the best things in the world to make the blood circulate and distribute equally the animal heat. Enough has been said to you on the subject of scruples, and you have admitted the reasonableness of what has been said: I had hoped they were gone for ever. You are a great comfort and blessing to me: be satisfied with yourself. You were at confession and communion five days ago: has any thing occurred since, on which you would consult your director?' He replied, No, nothing.' This we afterThis we afterwards remembered with great comfort." pp. 341, 342. The reader has already seen by what means the painful emotions which pressed upon this interesting young man at Stoneyhurst were removed. The wound had been healed slightly; and there were those, not himself, who frowned upon every serious effort to scrutinize a mind disturbed by a consciousness of sin. His parent immediately finds a solution of the mysterious re-visitation in natural causes, and seems to bid him fly at once to the world for a cure; and argues, at the same time, that a recent act of confession and communion might remove all fear of guilt. We have, therefore, before us, the painful spectacle of a tender parent, led away by the false system which he had embraced, persevering in diverting the thoughts of his child from one of the most important duties of religion, self-examination. A psychologist from a German university would have pursued exactly the same plan, and prescribed a similar remedy-the expulsion of gloomy thoughts, by the gaieties and pastimes of the world. If our convert had accurately distinguished between scruples founded on false estimates of duty, and such as were the fruits of a really tender conscience; if he had defined the several dimensions of the gnat and the camel, and thence shewn the inconsistencies of men who select their own vices and virtues, as taste or constitutional temperament may direct; we might have given the casuist some credit for a wise management of his patient's case. But there runs through the whole story an anxiety, on the part of the convert, to explain away the purity and strictness of the Gospel. He is an advocate, for example, for theatrical entertainments; and even, in this very instance, as opposed to his son, who stedfastly shunned, and to his dying day, every allurement to the play-house. Of the convert's sophistry on this subject the following is a specimen : "In Italy I was instructed, that there the universal church, but only by the exists no excommunication of actors by decrees of some particular dioceses, in remote ages, when the scenic art was reputed infamous on account of the representations, then almost always contrary to good fession of actors are guilty of great sin, if morals that they who exercise the prothey exhibit on the stage any thing shame ful or obscene, but not otherwise that there exist indeed sentences of the holy see and of general councils against scenic representations, but that they refer always to such as may be indecent and contrary to sound morality: that the Fathers condemn the theatres of their time, not only because of the indecencies there represented, but also because, as the Pagans acted plays in honour of their false gods, the Christians could not assist at them without the stain of idolatry: that a decent play cannot be called absolutely a proximate occasion of sin, but may become such relatively to certain individuals on account of their personal fragility; and that such, admonished by their own experience, are bound to fly a danger which, though it may be remote to others, is to them proximate: finally, that there cannot be any positive judgment nor any fixed or constant rule respecting theatres; since the lawfulness or unlawfulness of them may vary at every moment, according as scenic representations are agreeable or repugnant to good morals. "Priests go to plays in Italy, generally retiring before the ballet. I have seen a cardinal at a private theatre: that it was a private theatre, was a circumstance of some importance in point of decorum, but of none in point of morality, concerning which it is fair to presume that his eminence entertained no doubt or scruple."pp. 313, 314. The subject of the stage affords standing matter of debate to such moralists as square their opinions by their passions; but it could not have been previously supposed that any one, so deeply versed in theological casuistry as the convert, could have considered the inquiry as an open question. The thing is either right or wrong; and a conscientious man ought, at least, to walk on the safe side. But among the strange involutions of the paragraphs last cited, there is an evident attempt to settle the controversy by chronology and geography; we are also informed, that purity and impurity have their alternations; while the author deludes himself, and might delude many, by playing upon the terms absolute and relative, remote and proximate; leaving the attendant at a theatre to measure its temptations by the make of his own character. All this is wretched reasoning, and might obviously be applied to any species of evil, so as to justify a man for approaching the vilest ༣ sources of contamination, on the plea that his peril was not absolute, but barely relative; that the mischief would be remote, and by no means proximate. We are not speaking of the accuracy of the logic which a libertine might thus employ; but of the facility with which he would apply a flexible rule to purposes of licentiousness. If the rule in question needed an illustration, the conduct of the Italian clergy is in point; they retire before the ballet; and then, we have a cardinal, who is presumed to attend private theatricals without any offence to his conscience: and of course he is doing right. The convert's manner of defending the stage sinks him deeper in the mire of the system, than if he had been quite silent. He writes like a per son who wishes to defend himself against a foreseen attack, and is also well aware of the feebleness of his defensive weapons. This protector of his new faith might reasonably say of a certain physician, who deceived him, "I did not place more reliance on him on account of his devotion; knowing that devotion is but too often another mode of selfdeceit." But the day of poor Kenelm's dissolution arrived. He expired with apparent tranquillity, although surrounded by the usual pageantries of the Latin church; and certainly under circumstances extremely unfavourable to the development of religious feeling. He appears to have maintained to the end of his life, a seriousness of character, occasionally shewing itself in devotional. expressions; and far superior, we incline to suppose, to any thing. related of him in the narrative. How bitter is the reflection forced upon us, as in imagination we contemplate his dying hours, that his aspirations after immortal life were discouraged by those who ought to have been his guides to immortality; by his nearest relatives, and his spiritual advisers! that his real foes, however kind their intention, were those of his own house! It seems, however, that one of these opponents is desirous of proving the felicity of the departed, by intimations conveyed by a vision. "In the night between the 30th and 31st of October, thirty entire days after the death of Kenelm, his parents retired late to rest; in fact, at one o'clock of the morning of the 31st. As they were composing themselves to sleep, they heard a noise as of the breaking of a small stick. To me this noise seemed to proceed from the cabinet or dressing-room behind the bed; my wife heard it as from the commode or drawers opposite the foot of the bed. We asked each other what the noise might be, and compared what we had heard. Within a minute, my wife, who had raised herself in her bed, asked me What light is that?' I saw no light, and asked, "Where?' 'On the drawers, brighter than any candle.' She proceeded to describe what she saw: Now it rises and grows larger. How beautifully bright! brighter than the most brilliant star. What can it mean? it is very strange you don't see it.' I thought so too; but to encourage her, said, Compose yourself; it can mean no harm.' She went on: 'It still rises and grows larger; now it turns towards the window-it takes the form of a dove with the wings spread out--it has a bright glory all around it-it looks steadily at me-it speaks to my heart, and tells me that my dear Henry is happy-it fixes a piercing look on me, as if it would make me feel what it means. Now I know he is happy, and shall lament no more for him. There now it has disappeared." Though I had not seen the light, I could see the face of my wife while she was looking at it, and the tears glittering as if a bright light passed through them while they fell down her cheeks. The French word would be ébrillantées. There still remained a suffused light in the room particularly on the wall above the drawers, as of the reflection of a nearly extinguished fire. This was observed by both of us. It lasted about five minutes, growing gradually fainter, and at length failing entirely. While looking at this suffused and darkish red light, and reasoning with myself how or why the bright light had not been seen by me, I remarked on the floor by the open door of the cabinet, the reflection of a veilleuse, or small night-lamp. These lights are made of a single thread of cotton half an inch long, steeped in melted wax, and when dry, inserted in little flat pieces of cork, which are floated, while the cotton is burning, in a small quantity of oil. This night-lamp was placed in the remotest corner of the dressing-room, which went the whole length of the bed-room. I saw its reflection on the floor only, and only so far as the open door permitted it to be seen. 'This,' said I, cannot be the it have been the cause of the bright one.' cause of the suffused light; still less can While I was looking first at the suffused light, then at the reflection of the lamp, the former disappeared: it was plain, therefore, that it had not been caused by the latter. "In the morning we visited the tomb of our departed son, and returned thanks to God. During the whole of the scene which I have described, which lasted about half a quarter of an hour, my wife's behaviour was sufficiently composed and recollected, was consistent and rational, free from affectation or enthusiasm. A sudden and transient apparition of an illuminated dove with a glory might be considered as the work of fancy; but here this appearance was prepared for and followed by circumstances, in which the imagination could have no part. The attention of her who was to see the vision was directed, by the noise preceding it, to the place where it first appeared; while I was roused by the same noise, but heard by me in a different part of the chamber, as if I were to be, as in the main I was, a witness only. I repeat, the suffused light was seen by us both for four or five minutes. Besides the form which the bright light assumed to the eyes of my wife, the circumstance of its being seen by one of the parties only without weakening the force of her testimony, is conclusive against its being either a natural or artificial light; and her testimony, aided by mine, as to the concomitant circumstances, proves it to have been a supernatural one. The house looked into a court; there was no house opposite from which lamp or candle could be seen; the moon, whatever witty people may be inclined to say of the influence of the moon in this case, was but four days old; besides, the window shutters were closed and excluded all lights, artificial or natural. "To use the words of a learned, rational, and respectable old man, the curé of St. Agricol, to whom I related the matter, 'Ce qu'on voit, on voit.' True,--what one sees, one sees; but the Scripture, with that intimate knowledge of human nature evident in its every page, speaks of some who will not be persuaded even though one rose from the dead.' "The term of thirty days has been ob. served in the cathedral church as that at the end of which revelations have sometimes been made of the happiness of departed souls." pp. 377-381. A monk in the last days of his dotage, and after half a century's confinement within a monastery, might be forgiven for stating the rule of the church respecting supernatural visitations. He might also not be blamed if he was totally unacquainted with optical illusions, and the operation of various physical causes, under circumstances, and at a time when wonders are expected, and where trifles are magnified into miracles. The convert himself ac counts for the preservation of St. Benezet's body by the agency of water, in producing adipocire; but we scarcely know whether he is in jest or earnest. Of late years, good sense, aided by matters of fact and practical experiment, has dashed from its pedestal many an idol of the superstitious. Invisible girls may now-a-days be seen; and the statue of Memnon-if it be the originalat length emits sounds perfectly inaudible. Ferriar and Hibbert have examined spectral appearances with as little remorse as has been shewn by the geologist, who finds the caves of fairies and genii to be composed of argillaceous schistus and basalt; while the German giant of the Broken has been mashed to tatters by the mace of M. Haue*. We regret, however, to have marked, under the pretensions of a falsely enlightened philosophy, many guilty endeavours to discredit the miracles of Revelation itself, and to intimate the credulous weakness of such persons as believe in their reality; and who also believe that the Divine Agent in such cases has no where signified his determination never again to appeal to human sense by great signs and wonders. We shall not go out of our way to interfere with the faith of those who suppose themselves to be in possession of credible proof of recent visitations from the spiritual world; but our present subject of complaint is, the passive and puerile prostration of the convert's understanding before the strange decisions of his adopted mother. How could a professor of the faith of Christ, mingled though that faith may be with much false and foolish sophistry, resort to a nocturnal blaze of light, and the alleged undefined figure of a dove, for comfort on the death of a son? The assurance of * See Christ. Observ. for 1813, p. 806. the Gospel is, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit; that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.' Had consolation, in the instance before us, been derived from a legitimate source, we think that the parents of Henry Kenelm would have drawn their portion from the remembrance of their child's character; marked as it was -we do not say with what degree of distinctness-by the operations of an awakened conscience, and by many hopeful symptoms of a devotional mind in the prospect of death and eternity. When good men die, the feeling of their pious survivors is, that the departed gave testimony, on this side of the grave, of their meetness for the kingdom of glory. The evidence is not posthumous, but retrospective. After the above extracts and comments, we leave to the reader's decision the question, FROM what, and To what, was our narrator converted? Must we not reply, From one shadow to another? His work illustrates the emptiness of all religion, so called, which is not productive of active and consistent holiness. Exactly the same exposure might have been made, had the convert originally belonged to the RomanCatholic party, and deserted to the opposite camp. By their fruits ye shall know them," is a test applicable to every member of the universal visible church; since, throughout its various enclosures may be found the luxuriant growth of the thorns and the thistle; while the vine alone bears the grape, and the fig-tree its own luscious produce. The author's preface is dated March 1826; nearly seven and twenty years since his absorption into the papal system. What melioration his mind may have undergone during the last two or three years, we have no means of knowing. The present examination of his conduct, as given to the world by himself, involves, as we trust, no violation of the delicacy due to a living writer; since nothing is as sumed, on this occasion, affecting his personal character, but what is directly deduced from his own published confessions. We certainly consider that no Romanist who had seriously examined into our author's deep acquaintance with scriptural theology would have supposed his communion to have drawn a prize, when this aspirant was re-baptized by one of its priests. Yet, it may be here remembered, that when Henrietta, daughter of Charles the First, and duchess of Orleans, was carried to her grave, the eloquent Bossuet pronounced a funeral oration; in which, as far as we recollect, he declaimed on what he called the accomplishment of the times of confusion-meaning the troubles in England in the restoration of the princes to the bosom of the Catholic Church. If history be faithful, and if, as Burke said, it keeps an awful record of human actions, this daughter of England, who was ultimately poisoned by her husband in a fit of jealousy, ought to have been received with emotions, not of triumph, but of shame; and if a man of Bossuet's genius and attainments was so enslaved by ecclesiastical and court influence, as to prostitute his talents by eulogising one of the children of infamy, how can we wonder at the eagerness displayed by religionists of all persuasions, to swell their numbers by recruits from other parties, without any serious scrutiny of their proselyte's motives, or even of their personal character! But this is conversion-a term by which, when we read its application in the awakening appeals of such men as Baxter and Alleine, we are taught to understand the transition of the soul from the darkness, helplessness, and guilt of nature, to the light and power, and sanctifying influences of the Holy Ghost. "Repent ye," said St. Peter-not his assumed successors" and be con verted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord." Here is the consequence of a true transformation, the obliteration of guilt, and the promise of Divine consolations, proceeding from the Saviour himself. We do not aspire to give a definite interpretation of the last clause of this admonition; but "times of refreshing" doubtless are afforded to all such as are sound converts to the faith of Christ crucified. The subject of conversion is, indeed, so fruitful in mistake and perversion, when touched by unskilful hands, that our most practical divines guard and fence it around with all their caution and care. They usually commence their definitions of the word, by stating what it is not; and, having made this negative preparation in order to defend it from the first and most natural mode of abuse, proceed to tell what it is, but minutely, slowly, elaborately; as though they were determined, if possible, to leave no possible avenue for the intrusion of insincerity, no space of unoccupied ground, where the hypocrite might plant his foot and claim a station among the heirs of the heavenly kingdom. But why do holy men exercise all their cautionary wisdom on this subject, but, as one reason, from their self-knowledge having painfully taught them the danger of persons too hastily assuming their conversion even before they well knew the difference between a change of religious theory and a renovation of the mind. Let the reader compare with the detail of "conversion" now before us, such specimens of spiritual auto-biography as have been so acceptably given to the Christian world by Baxter, Newton, Scott, and other able ministers of the New Testament; and he will feel- or we compassionate him if he does not feel as if he were suddenly transported from a dreary, waste, and frozen wilderness, into a region of exuberant beauty; |