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them, is a melancholy truth which cannot be denied." Again, "The mistresses and children of reverend gentlemen can be shown, whenever they may choose to put it to the trial. They themselves know that I can prove this assertion incontestibly." See Popish Episcopal Tyranny Exposed, preface, and page 45.

Hence it is, I suppose, that popish writers continue so pertinaciously to accuse the reformers of unchastity. They know how vulnerable the character of their own clergy is on this point; and, in order to divert the attention of their opponents, and put them on the defensive, they become the assailants and accusers. În almost all their writings it is asserted as an undoubted matter of fact, that Luther both taught and practised this vice; though it is a fact, that among the many thousands of enemies which he had during his life, there were none that could produce the smallest evidence of any thing worse than that he married a religious woman; that is, a woman, who, like himself, was under a vow of chastity. Similar accusations were brought against other leaders of the reformation, with an equal disregard of truth; and it is not more than two years since a reverend father had the effrontery to assert in the pulpit of the popish chapel here, that Knox plundered the cathedral of St. Andrews of its sacred vessels, and used them in drunken revelry with his concubines. Knox was a married man, and after the death of one wife he took another. This is the worst that his enemies can prove against him; and yet it is under this that the above monstrous charge is made, because Papists will not allow that ladies whom priests marry can be their lawful wives, and therefore they apply the above opprobrious epithet.

I need not here discuss the lawfulness of breaking the monastic vow; but I have no hesitation in saying, that so far as it is a vow of chastity, it would, in the case of most persons, stand more chance of being observed in the state of marriage, than in the state of celibacy. This is plainly the doctrine laid down by the apostle, 1 Cor. vii. 2. As the first reformers saw it their duty to marry, so in the reformation that has lately begun in Germany, under Von Wessenberg, this privilege is allowed to the priests, which is striking at the foundation of the papal power in that quarter. This is the principal crime that the pope lays to the charge of the modern reformer, which is done in the following words, in a document signed by Cardinal Gonsalvi: "The nunciature of Lucerne lost no time in transmitting to your curia, as it was in duty bound to do, the strongest representations against such enormous and grave abuses, and especially against the greatest of all, namely, that of giving the power of marriage to persons dedicated to God by a vow of perpetual chastity." Reformation of the Catholic Church in Germany, &c. Lond. 1819, page 24.

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It would be easy to fill a dozen numbers more with details of the horrible effects of clerical celibacy in the church of Rome. The general licentiousness which it occasioned was not confined to the lower orders of the priesthood. All ranks were tainted up to the very head; and the head of the church himself was often worst of all. One can scarcely open the Lives of the Popes from the sixth century to the sixteenth, but he will find the most disgusting accounts of their debaucheries, and of the oppressions which they practised in order to provide fortunes for their natural children, whom they introduced to the world as nephews and nieces. But the world does not need to be informed on this subject; and I believe my readers will think they have had enough of matter so nauseous.

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There is one thing more connected with this subject, to which I will advert in few words, and then proceed to something else: it is the inconsistency of calling matrimony a sacrament, and denying it to the clergy. In all other cases the priesthood insist upon having at least their own share of the good things of the church. The ordinances of divine appointment which are called sacraments, are given to the church as benefits; and they are signs of greater blessings than appear to the eye. The church of Rome has made several foolish additions to their number; but she holds them all as good things, and profitable to be observed. She indeed uses stronger language than any judicious Protestant will do. A sacrament," says Bishop Hay, "is an outward sensible action, or sacred sign, ordained by Jesus Christ, as a sure and certain means to bring grace to our souls." The subject is too serious for a pun, else I would defy the church of Rome to prove that all their sacraments are sensible* actions: at least, not that one that sets all the senses at defiance. I will not, however, refuse this character to marriage; and if it be indeed a sacrament, and a sure and certain means to bring grace to the soul, I am sure it must be the most sensible thing the priests ever did, to take wives, and live like honest men. And perhaps it is because they neglect this sacrament, that all the other six have failed of their sure and certain effect with regard to many of them, as is but too evident from their graceless lives.

It is not my usual practice to begin a number with the end of a subject, but sometimes, as in this instance, I find it expedient.†

*I am not sure if this word is used in the sense of wise, or judicious, or having good sense, south of the Tweed.

† Since writing the above, I have received the following communications, which I throw into a note here. The two anecdotes are not over decent, but they are such as one must expect to meet with, in reading on such a subject. My correspondent, who resides in Ireland, has given me the names of living authorities for both:-" A Roman Catholic gentleman, in the north of Munster, somewhat advanced in years, married a young and handsome wife, of the same communion. Naturally of a jealous disposition, and convinced of the corrupt principles and practices of his clergy, he would never permit the priest of the parish, or the friar who assisted him, to hear his wife's confession locked up together in a private room, according to the

Before entering upon another general head of discussion, I shall give place to a correspondent or two. The following is from my Galloway "Friend to fair dealing," whom I suspected to be a priest, and perhaps this is the principal reason why he is so very angry. If the reader will take the trouble of turning to my ninety-fifth number, in vol. I. he will see that I inserted only a part of a former letter from this gentleman, and my reasons for doing so. This is the avowed cause of his displeasure, although it is difficult to understand why he should have taken it so much amiss. I suppose he is the first that ever supposed that a periodical writer is obliged to print all that every man chooses to address to him, whether it be to the purpose or not.

"SIR-I had not an opportunity of seeing your method of noticing my last letter to you till very lately. You have, I see, taken the method of all those who, wishing to throw things unfavourable to their system into the back ground, represent only those features of the picture which are most for their advantage. It was a mean, cowardly artifice in you, not to give the public a full view of the arguments of your opponent, by presenting them with a faithful complete copy of his letter, and allowing them, without any fear of the consequences, to judge for themselves. I am aware, however, that some things were contained in that production, which it did not suit your purpose to give to public view. I must tell you, however, that I will permit no man to make free with altering my letters, or with giving a summary of their contents, but myself; more especially one whose interest it is that they should appear in a mutilated and distorted form. When you shall have given the public a bona fide transcript of my letter, I will proceed to reply to your answers to my queries, to refute some of your calumnious, ill-natured, ill-mannered misrepresentations of popery, and put some more queries to you. If you refuse to do that piece of justice, I will write no more to you on the subject, but after having made the public acquainted with the reasons of my silence, I will treat your arguments and production in the way they ought to have been all along treated; and which, in less than half a century, they will be treated with contempt. A FRIEND TO FAIR Dealing."

usual custom. But once a month, when the confession was to be heard, the priest attended for the purpose; and was obliged to shrive and absolve the lady in the lawn before the hall door, whilst the watchful husband sat in one of the windows of his drawing room, the rigid guardian of his wife's chastity, and his own honour." The following is of a more disgusting character:—“ A full-fed father Luke, in the county of Cavan, some years ago, had in vain attempted to seduce the affections of one of his fair parishioners. Soon after his repulse, he was consulted by the girl's father, on the disposal of her in marriage to a young man in a neighbouring county. The priest consented with reluctance, and the young people were made happy. Some months after he visited his young friend, and finding a convenient opportunity, he told her with horror in his looks, that she was pregnant of a monster. The woman was terrified, and such was her superstitious confidence in her guide, notwithstanding his former attempts upon her, that she believed his assertion; and it was not till he had made an infamous proposal, as a remedy for the evil, that she told the matter to her husband, who cudgelled the brute out of his house."

The following is from another correspondent:

Extract from the translation of Sleidane's Commentaries, translated by Jhon Dans, 1560, imprinted at London by Jhon Daye, for Abraham Veal and Nicholas England, 1560, 25th of September, L III. fol. xxxv, xxxvi. "In many of theyr Townes it is the maner, that whan they receyue a newe minister of the churche, they bidde him take a lemane, lest he attempt to defyle honest women, whiche custome althoughe it be laughed at of many, yet it was wittelye diuised as the tyme serued, and in so greate darkeness of doctrine depraued."

VOL. II.-12

Now, in the first place, I wish this gentleman to understand, that I do not look upon even his correspondence as of so much value, that I will do an unreasonable thing to induce him to continue it; and that I consider his not writing to me any more as a matter of no very great importance. As I have the sole responsibility, I must be the sole judge of what is fit to appear in my pages. I have always felt reluctant to make my readers pay for extraneous and irrelevant matter; and, to avoid this, when at one time I was led into such matter, I gave the quantity of a whole number gratis. (See Chap. L.) But I cannot afford to do the same with all that others may write. I suppose the feelings of my correspondent are not very acute on this score, as he has made me pay three postages of ninepence halfpenny each, which a little discretion would have taught him, ought to have been paid by himself. Indeed all my popish correspondents, whose letters came through the postoffice, are in the like fault, except one Glasgow one, whose discretion cost him only a penny. This is not a matter which I think worth complaining of as a hardship, but it is worth mentioning as a trait in the character of our Papists, and it stands in bold contrast with that of Protestants, for though their letters to me have been twenty, perhaps fifty times more in number, few of them cost me any thing.

This friend to fair dealing gravely and authoritatively tells me, that he will permit no man, but himself, to do so and so with his letters: and I hereby assure him, that I will permit no man to dictate to me what I shall do with a letter, addressed to me, and for which I have paid ten times its value. I admit, at the same time, that he would have had cause to find fault, if I had given as his words, what were not his; or if I had given only detached scraps of his letter, separated from their connexion, so as to misrepresent or conceal his meaning. But nothing of this kind have I done with his writing, or that of any other opponent. What I gave was a bona fide extract, containing an entire whole within itself, without the least dependance, for the understanding of its meaning, upon any other sentence in the sheet; so that I did not "alter" a single word, or even syllable, as he would insinuate when he says he will permit no man to do so but himself. He will not, he says, even permit any other man to give a summary of the contents of his letters; but how is he able to prevent this, I cannot divine, unless he shall keep them all carefully locked up in his secretaire.

That

mean and

This precious letter of his appears in his own esteem to be so weighty, that it did not suit my purpose to give it to public view. is, I suppose, his arguments were so powerful, that I could not answer them, and feeling conscious of this, I had recourse to the " cowardly artifice" of keeping them out of sight. I am perfectly willing thus to give his accusation in the plainest and broadest form; and I cheerfully meet it, by challenging him to publish his entire production to the world. It may be contained in a half sheet, about the size of one of my numbers, and may be sold at the same price. If he has not retained a copy, I will deliver an exact transcript of the original to any printer whom he may authorize to receive it.

This undertaking of course ought to be at his own risk; but lest he should have before his eyes the melancholy fate of the Catholic Vindicator, whose numbers might have been bought for twopence per pound weight, as one of the retailers of it told in his public shop; I hereby

promise to give it all the publicity that an advertisement in my work can give. I make this offer from a real desire that the public may see what he considers so formidable, and for my own justification in declining to insert the whole letter,-every clause of which it would be easy to answer; but in answering it, I would be led many degrees away from my controversy with the church of Rome, in order to give the history, and discuss the merits of the Glasgow church bill; and other matters equally irrelevant, for which see a more particular account in my summary of the letter in my ninety-fifth number.

If it shall be asked, why not gratify him at once by printing it entire? I answer again, that I did not at first think it right to tax the purses and the patience of my readers, by presenting them with such a great mass of useless words; and though my determination on this point might have been altered by a respectful request, I am not disposed to be influenced to change my opinion, or my procedure, by an "illnatured," and "ill-mannered" threat. Besides, it appears that this "friend to fair dealing," sees my work only occasionally. My extract and remarks on his former letter, were published on the 6th of May; and, in September, he writes, that he had not seen them till very lately, from which I infer that he is not a subscriber. He has no right, therefore, to demand insertion of his letter, and to make others pay for what he does not pay for himself. And, farther, it appears that he has not read the whole of my work, else he would find that I have answered, at least in part, what he calls upon me to answer again.

After all, I suspect that my correspondent has merely made a pretext for the purpose of securing what he will conceive to be an honourable retreat, and so to get quit of a controversy which he dreads entering farther into, seeing he cannot get me to enter the lists with him on subjects quite unconnected with the popish errors which I am exposing. Why does he not reply to what I have written on transubstantiation, and purgatory, and auricular confession, and the worship of creatures, and those other points which affect the vitals of the system? The reason is, he does not choose to commit himself, in a country so enlightened as Scotland, by avowing the real doctrine of Rome on such points, and he dares not deny them, else he might suffer the censure of his superiors, and even canonical deprivation, if he be, as I suppose, a priest. Like other writers of his communion, therefore, he catches at some casual expressions, which are of about as much importance in relation to the controversy, as the vane of a kirk steeple is to the doctrine of the church; and because he cannot prevail upon me to waste my time, and exhaust the patience of my readers, by discussing such trifles, he cries out about my meanness and cowardice; and ventures gravely to predict, that in less than half a century, my arguments will be treated with contempt. I thank him for giving me so long a lease of the good opinion with which I have the honour to be regarded by the public; and I wish he may live to renew the grant, in case it shall turn out that he is not a true prophet.

Now, if he were to honour me with another letter, the last sentence will furnish him with matter for a very long one. He would probably ask a dozen questions about the nature of leases, and upon what premises I made the conclusion that he had granted me one for fifty years? what was the criterion of public opinion? from what circumstance I

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