a passage from his works that Luther was led to the truth concerning man's personal acceptance with God by faith, and that made him a Reformer;) and, along with this, statements which completely establish what is significantly termed, Mariolatry,—the worship of Mary. What Dante makes the poetical St. Bernard say, the real St. Bernard actually had said. His poetry is only a somewhat adorned history.

"Here [in heaven] thou to us, of charity and love,
Art as the noon-day torch; and art, beneath,
To mortal men, of hope a living spring.

So mighty art thou, lady, and so great,
That he who grace desireth, and comes not
To thee for aidance, fain would have desire
Fly without wings. Not only him who asks
Thy bounty succours; but doth freely oft
Forerun the asking.

I my prayers to thee prefer,
(And pray they be not scant,) that thou would'st drive
Each cloud of his mortality away,

Through thine own prayers; that on the sovran joy
Unveil'd he gaze. This yet, I pray thee, Queen,
WHO CANST DO WHAT THOU WILT; that in him thou

Would'st, after all he hath beheld, preserve
Affection sound, and human passions quell.

Lo! where, with Beatrice, many a saint

Stretch their clasp'd hands, in furtherance of: my suit."

John, in the apocalyptic vision, saw the throne, and the Lamb in the midst of the throne, and the seven spirits before the throne. The Roman Church has placed the virgin mother as the immediate object of heavenly worship, through whose intercession, and by whose unlimited power, access to the beatific vision is vouchsafed. If this is not "adding to the words of this book," the text is utterly meaningless; and if it be, then is the Roman system (them who embrace it we leave to God) a scripturally-anathematized one, on which rests the whole weight of the fearful curses of Revelation. The aspect under which we must consider all such as have been brought up in such a system of misbelief, is most

melancholy; but awful must be the condition of those who depart from the clear light of Protestantism to embrace it. The grand fact and principle of the Gospel is, "There is one God, and one Mediator between God and man." Romanism fixes the attention on countless mediators, and renders to the creature what will always be, in practice, (however the cobweb distinctions of a metaphysical verbiage may appear to guard against it,) a confidence and worship properly religious, and due, as such, according to the whole tenor of Scripture, to God alone. The Church of Rome is heretical, as well as schismatical.

Our limits will admit of scarcely any more extracts from this wonderful poem; for such, whatever may be its defects, it is. The two books of which we have now given some brief account, abound in passages of power and splendour. We do not expect, indeed, that the poem will ever be what is called popular. It cannot be read for amusement. Its greatness cannot be perceived except through the exercise of high and sustained thought. But to all who are prepared thus to read it, it will ever be found a magazine of every kind of truly poetical conceptions. Scarcely a species of poetic composition can be mentioned, of which the "Vision" of Dante does not furnish an example. The student of genuine and lofty poetry will thank us, we are persuaded, for calling his attention to the work; while even the general reader, whose taste or pursuits may not lead him in this particular direction, will be glad to have been thus informed concerning the bright and splendid dawning of modern literature.

With one quotation, taken almost at random, from canto xxxi., our papers shall conclude.

"I, who then

From human to divine had past, from time

Unto eternity, and out of Florence*

To justice and to truth, how might I choose

But marvel too? 'Twixt gladness and amaze,

This is cuttingly severe. He had passed from time to eternity, and from Florence,-where he had suffered so much from unrighteousness and falsehood, from Florence, to justice and truth. It is thus that, in few and quiet words, he says many and great things.

In sooth no will had I to utter aught,
Or hear. And as a pilgrim, when he rests
Within the temple of his vow, looks round
In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell
Of all its goodly state; e'en so mine eyes
Coursed up and down along the living light,
Now low, and now aloft, and now around,
Visiting every step. Looks I beheld
Where charity in soft persuasion sat;
Smiles from within, and radiance from above;
And, in each gesture, grace and honour high."

CONVENTUAL LIFE IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY. EXTRACT II.

[WHILE our good friend and gossip, Master Jocelin of Brakelond, lived in the abbey, the old Abbot, Hugh, died, and it became necessary to appoint a successor. During the vacancy, the Monks naturally conversed frequently on the subject; and Jocelin has related these observations as particularly as if he had lived in our own day, and had read Boswell's "Life of Johnson," and taken it as the model of his own journal. This portion of his "Chronicles" shall form our second extract. We are much mistaken if the remarks of the members of the, as yet, headless body, will not amuse our readers. They, too, who look for more than amusement will find, if they look below the surface, and reflect on that which meets their view, important information. Here, as in other parts, the true idolatry of Romanism is very apparent. Nothing is said of the "one Mediator between God and man:" it is "God and the holy martyr St. Edmund" to whom prayers and supplications are addressed in this exigency. Nor is anything said that would really show that the Monks had any idea of "the power of godliness," as distinct from its "form." At a later period, among the Jansenists of PortRoyal, we find evidences of spiritual feeling, though sadly obscured and misguided; but amongst these Monks of St. Edmondsbury, even the religious walk was a walk "by sight," not "by faith." A few other extracts will, we fear, place this melancholy truth (for melancholy it is) beyond successful

contradiction. And as there have been attempts, latterly, to bring monastic life into favour again, a practical exhibition of its true character will be the best way by which such attempts can be met and repelled.]

THE abbey being thus vacant, oftentimes, as it was our duty, we besought God and the holy martyr St. Edmund, that He would vouchsafe to us and our Church a meet shepherd, thrice every week singing the seven penitential psalms prostrate in the choir, after going forth from Chapter: and there were some amongst us to whom had it been made appear who should have been the future Abbot, would not have prayed so devoutly. As concerned the choice of an Abbot, assuming the King gave us free election, many spoke in diverse ways,— some publicly, some privately; and "so many men so many opinions." One certain person said of another certain person, "That brother is a good Monk, a likely person; he is well conversant with the rule and discipline of the Church: although he may not be so perfect a philosopher as others, he is well able to be an Abbot. The Abbot Ording was an illiterate man, and yet he was a good Abbot, and wisely governed this house. It is read in fables, that it had been better for the frogs to have chosen a log for a King, upon whom they might rely, than a serpent, who venomously hissed, and after his hisses devoured his subjects." Another would answer, "How may this be? How can an unlearned man deliver a sermon in Chapter, or to the people on holidays? How can he who doth not understand the Scriptures attain the knowledge of 'binding and loosing?' whereas the cure of souls is the art of arts, and science of sciences. Far be it that a dumb statue should be set up in the Church of St. Edmund, where many learned and studious men are well known to be."

Also said one of another, "That brother is a good Clerk, eloquent and careful, strict in rule; he hath much loved the Convent, and hath undergone many hardships in respect of the possessions of the Church: he is worthy to be made Abbot." Another answered, "From good Clerks, O Lord, deliver us. That thou wouldest be pleased to preserve us from the barrators of Norfolk, we beseech thee to hear us, good

Lord." Moreover, one certain person said of another certain person, "That brother is a good husband, which is proved from his department, and from the offices which he hath well served, and by the buildings and reparations which he has performed. He is able to travail for and defend the house; and is, moreover, something of a Clerk, although 'too much learning hath' not 'made him mad.'" Another answers, "God will not that a man who can neither read nor chant, nor perform divine services, a wicked and unjust man, and a grinder of the faces of the poor, should be Abbot." Also said one of another, "That brother is a kind man, affable and amiable, peaceful and well-regulated, open-hearted and liberal, a learned man and an eloquent, and beloved by many, in-doors as well as out; and such a man might, with God's permission, become Abbot, to the great honour of the Church." The other answered, "It is no honour, but rather a burden, to have a man who is too nice in his meat and drink; who thinks it a virtue to sleep long; who is expert in spending much, and yet gets little; who is snoring when others are watching; who always is desirous to be in plenty, nor yet careth for the debts which increase from day to day, nor considereth the means of discharging expenses; hating anxiety and trouble; caring for nought so long as one day cometh and another goeth; a man cherishing and fostering flatterers and liars; a man who is one thing in name and another in deed. From such a Prelate, defend us, O Lord!" Also said a certain one of his fellow, "That man is almost wiser than all of us put together, both in secular and ecclesiastical matters; a man of lofty counsel, strict in rule, learned and eloquent, and of proper stature: such a Prelate would beseem our Church." The other answers, “Very true, if he were of known and approved reputation. His character is questionable: although common report may lie, yet it may sometimes speak truth. And although that man is wise, of lowly carriage in Chapter, devout in psalmody, strict in the cloister whilst he is in the cloister; yet it is mere outward show with him. What if he do excel in any office? He is too scornful, lightly esteems the Monks, is closely intimate with secular persons; and should he be angry, scarcely returns an answer with a good