43. More about Purgatory.

What low and unworthy thoughts the Catholics must have of the work of Christ and of the efficacy of his blood, that they should believe that after he has done all he can for a soul, and his blood has exhausted its virtue on it, it has still to be subjected to the action of an intense flame, for no one knows how long, in order that the expiation of its sins may be complete, and its salvation perfected! What a doctrine! Why, according to this, Christ was premature in saying on the cross, "It is finished." It was not finished. The expiation of sin was only begun on Calvary. It is completed in Purgatory! O God, I pray thee rid and deliver the mind of man from this dreadful delusion, so derogatory to thy dear Son, our blessed Savior; and so injurious to thee, for it represents thee, who delightest in mercy, as punishing after thou hast pardoned; as requiring satisfaction from men, after thou hast accepted for them the satisfaction of Christ!

Now I know the reason why Catholics are never happy in the prospect of death-why the dying votaries of that religion never exclaim, "O death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory ?" It is because they are expecting to go to a place of fire. How can they be triumphant in the "certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation ?" How can their religion be other than what it is, a religion of fear and foreboding.

I have a few more things to say upon this subject; one of them is this: If there was in the time of Christ and his apostles such a place as Purgatory, it must have been a place of little note and of little use—of

little note, for they say nothing about it-and of little use, because we hear of no one going there. Lazarus did not go there, neither did Dives-nor did the thief who was saved from the cross-nor did Judas. Paul speaks of those Christians who are absent from the body, as present with the Lord. Is Christ in Purgatory? Is it there that believers go to be ever with him? But hark! a voice from heaven! now we shall know how it is: "I heard a voice from heaven," says St. John, "saying unto me, write, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors." They that die in the Lord, rest. Then, certainly they are not in Purgatory.

If Purgatory is full of souls, who are helped by the prayers of the faithful on earth, as Catholics say, why, in the multitude of their exhortations, do the sacred writers never so much as give us a hint about praying for those poor suffering souls? What a cruel oversight it was in them!

I smile sometimes when I look at this doctrine of Purgatory. But I repress the smile. Ludicrous as the doctrine is, it is still more pernicious. What does it do, that is so bad? Why, it turns away the attention of the soul from Christ. It says the very opposite of "behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." And then it tells men that they may not only live, but die wickedly, and yet entertain the hope of salvation. It proclaims the possibility of a post-mortem repentance and purification from sin. It emboldens men to go out of the world in impeni tence, assuring them that though they do, yet prayers and masses offered for them after death can save

them. It denies that we are to be judged and dealt with according to the deeds done in the body; whereas, the Bible declares that according to these, we are to receive.

On the whole, for this doctrine of Purgatory there is neither Scripture, nor reason, nor common sense. This, however, may be said of it. It is a profitable doctrine. Yes, a capital speculation. There is no doctrine which pays so well. You have heard of Peter's pence. Here his boasted successors get their pounds.

44. A Strange Thing.

I read the other day in a Baltimore newspaper the following article:

"OBSEQUIES.-This day the Prelates and Theologians of the Catholic Provincial Council, now in session in this city, together with several other priests, celebrated the solemn office for the repose of the souls of the Right Rev. Doctor Fenwick, of Cincinnati, and De Neker, of New Orleans. The Right Rev. Doctor Rosati celebrated the High Mass, attended by the proper officers. After the Gospel, the Right Rev. Doctor Purcell, Bishop of Cincinnati, ascended the pulpit and preached a funeral Oration; in which he ably portrayed, in accurate and pathetic language, the virtues and services of the deceased prelates, the former of whom fell a victim to the cholera, after years of laborious and successful exertions; the latter was taken away in the bloom of youth and in the midst of his labors by the yellow fever. After the Mass, Doctor Rosati performed the usual obsequies."

Having finished reading the article, I withdrew the paper from my eye and I said to myself, Where am

I? I thought I was in the United States of America. But that cannot be. This can be no other than Spain, Portugal, or Italy. And what century is this? I always thought that I lived in the glorious nineteenth. But I must have made a mistake of nine at the very least. This surely must be the tenth century; the darkest of the dark ages-seculum tenebricosum, as the church historians call it-the midnight of time! this day the Prelates—in this city—celebrated the solemn office for the repose, &c.

Just then it occurred to me that I might have read the paragraph incorrectly. So I resumed the paper; but still it read the same. Then I threw it down, and I sat and thought: Well now, this is a strange thingan extraordinary piece of business-praying for the repose of deceased saints!—and those, too, prelates of the only true church-and prelates eminent for their "virtues and services"-dead a year, or thereabouts, and yet not at rest!—and this by confession of their own church! What must become of the less renowned Catholics, if the very best of their bishops are tossing and burning in purgatory a year after having sacrificed their lives in the service of God and their fellow-creatures; and need solemn offices said for the repose of their souls? I always thought that rest to the soul ensued immediately on the exercise of faith. Paul says, แ we which have believed, do enter into rest ;" and Christ 66 says, come unto me, and I will give you rest; take my yoke upon you and learn of me and ye shall find rest unto your souls." I always supposed it meant that they should find the rest as soon as they came; and not after a long life, and a long purgatorial period subsequent to that. But above all, I had got the

impression that, if never before, yet in the grave, good men find rest. I must have contracted that belief, I suppose, by reading what St. John says, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest," &c. or possibly I got it from that other passage, "there the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary are at rest.” But it seems I am wrong. Here are two bishops dead, yet not at rest! If what St. John says is true, here is a dilemma. Either those bishops did not die in the Lord, or they are at rest. Will the prelates say that they did not die in the Lord? I suspect not. Then they must believe that they are at rest. And if so, why celebrate the solemn office for their repose?

Hoping it may not be a mortal sin, (if it be only venial, I will risk it,) I would ask how the Catholics know that these bishops of theirs are not at rest? Who told them so? Where did they learn it? It seems to me a slander on those men. Bishop Fenwick enjoyed an enviable reputation for goodness. I have often heard him spoken of by Protestants in terms of high commendation; and the article quoted speaks of "the virtues and services" of both. And now, after they have been dead so long, to tell the world that they are not at rest, and that their repose must be prayed for! If Protestants had dared to suggest such a thing about them, we should never have heard the last of it.

But it seems not only a slander on those men, but also a reflection on Christ. How imperfectly, according to the Catholics, he must have done his work! that even those esteemed his most devoted servants must lie, and toss, and burn, nobody knows how long,