to, served still more to convince me that Ireland would most probably be the very last of the lands in which that grasp shall be loosened; and reminded me of the old prophecy, that 'The Church of Rome falleth, when in Ireland the power of the pope shall be overthrown.' In France almost daily accessions are made to the Evangelical and Protestant societies, but they excite no commotion, produce no persecution. In Ireland, alas! we too well know, that if the confession of a convert's faith is not attested in his blood, it must be, at least, most generally made in the spirit that can say, 'Lo, we have left all to follow Thee-friends, and home, and earthly peace, and ease, all the endearments of life.'

The account which I gave that French Protestant minister of the trials and persecutions of a young Irish convert, interested and surprised him; it is among my 'Recollections of Ireland,' and to some of our readers it may be as interesting as it was to him.

1

The mother of Mary M. had been a Protestant ; that is, she was baptised into that communion, and she remained in it until she married a Roman Catholic, whose stern unyielding bigotry of disposition, either overcame feelings that were not the result of principles of conviction, or induced an outward conformity to the religion he professed, and Mrs. M., as her mother used to say, for peace sake, went to mass. Bigotted, however, as Mr. M. was, the claims of a large family induced him to

The Writer of these papers has often declared the circumstances related from time to time, to have been real occurrences: it may how. ever be as well to state that the narrative here given is a literal relation of facts.

R

comply with the proposal of his wife's mother, to take charge of the education of his eldest and favourite daughter. At ten years of age little Mary M. was consigned to the care of her Protestant grandmother, with a positive stipulation on her part, that the child's religion was never to be interfered with, an engagement which, though demanded by Mr. M. as an additional security for his child's safety, he himself thought almost unnecessary, as old Mrs. B. was by no means possessed of a proselyting spirit, but was one of those who think it little consequence what modes of faith men adopt, so as each pursues honestly and decorously that which seemeth good in his own eyes. Mr. M. therefore prided himself on a scrupulosity, which circumstances did not appear to render necessary, and having, moreover, consigned his child to the spiritual surveillance of the Priest of the parish, felt quite at ease respecting her. Mrs. B. strictly fulfilled her charge; for five years Mary enjoyed all the advantages of education, and all facilities for observing the rites and practices of the Romish religion; at the end of these five years, that is, at the age of fifteen, she was a lively, intelligent, well-informed girl, whose external appearance and mental endowments procured her the admiration of her own family, and the favour of all her acquaintance. I do not think she had much exceeded this age when the death of a young friend gave the first check to the thoughlessness of happy youth, and awoke the first movements of that inquiring disposition, which, though slow in reaching its object, never again rested, in its search after truth. Like many others, Mary thought herself, and believed her young friend to have been perfectly

Sin

innocent, and fit for admission into heaven. and its consequences first weighed upon her mind, when she saw the latter exhibited in the form of death; that sin must be atoned for, she knew, and she could not behold without horror the face she had lately beheld glowing in youth, while she thought the spirit that had animated it, was then undergoing the purifying ordeal of purgatory; she was told this was necessary, and what was necessasy for her friend must be necessary for herself, and Mary shrunk and shuddered at the thought of death, and could only relieve her mind by flattering herself with the improbable hope of dying rich enough to leave a large sum for masses, for her soul.

It was some time, perhaps nearly a year, after this, that the following simple and striking occurrence took place, which I relate just as she told it to me. Her grandmother was old and infirm. On Sundays when she could not go to Church, the large family Bible was always laid open on a small table, before which her chair was set; this was the servant's work, for though it might seem a natural duty for Mary to perform, she was never required even to touch that prohibited Book, and had lived nearly six years in a Protestant house, without ever, to her recollection, having heard or read a single verse from it. One Sabbath morning, a morning much to be remembered by her for ever after,-she came into the parlour to take her Prayer Book, as she was going to Chapel, and in the careless gaiety of youth, smiled to see the large Bible thus formally laid out, with the spectacles placed on the open page; and having a few minutes to spare, she glanced carelessly over that page. This is truth, for the invention of such a circumstance

would, in the writer's opinion, at least, be sinful. What I relate is another proof of the power of God's word. Her eye fell, apparently at random, on the words: "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin;" and it rested on them; I do not know whether she read any others, but these never passed from her mind; they seemed to strike at the root of that doctrine of her Church, which was the only one she had ever thought about, the doctrine of purgatory. From this time, an undefined feeling of being in error took possession of her mind; she knew not how to detect this error or free herself from it, but it was a single verse of God's word had given her this feeling, and though she had often heard that no good Catholic should meddle with the Scriptures, Mary determined to become more acquainted with the Book, which she had been taught to think was for the Priests alone. She had full opportunity for doing so, her grandmother never required it but at the stated times which were known to every one in the house, and she could take it to her room and replace it without the old lady's suspecting it had been meanwhile in use. She began with the New Testament, and read with astonishment and delight the doctrines and character of Him in whom her Church professes to believe, while it so strangely keeps his word from its members. Her mind was not of a common order; capable of discovering and appreciating true beauty and sublime simplicity, the scriptures opened to her a wide display of both; and she told me she had never read a page of the most finished writer, either of poetry or prose, with half the delight, the merely intellectual enjoyment, with which she perused, for the first time, the prophecies

of Isaiah.

But the further she looked into the word of God, the more her mind revolted from that doctrine-her uneasiness respecting which had been the original cause of her ever opening it-I mean the Roman Catholic doctrine of purgatory. She found it clearly stated, that the incarnate Son of God had "suffered the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God," and, as another scripture says, that he might "perfect for ever them that are sanctified," she could see no reason why a sacrifice so vast should need the co-operating suffering of the soul in purgatorial torments.

Agitated by such doubts, and incapable of answering the questions her inquiring mind continually proposed, she resolved to seek for a solution of them from the priest whom her father had requested to watch over the spiritual concerns of his child, and accordingly took an opportunity of introducing them in a guarded manner, as if for the information of a young friend. The answers she received were, however far from being satisfactory to a mind that was excited to a state of ardour in the pursuit of knowledge, and above all, religious knowledge.

'The church said so, and she could not err; the pope and the clergy knew better than foolish young people; they should not presume to meddle with the doctrines of the true church, they have only to believe and do what they are taught; it is enough for them to leave such arguments to their clergy. Let them be thankful,' he concluded, that instead of having to puzzle their brains with such things, they have only to act as their clergy bid them, and they may be sure of resting but a short time in purgatory, on their road to the gate of heaven.'