THE HUMP-BACKED GIRL.
THE little cripple pass'd along
The quiet village street;

The clothes she wore were patch'd and old,
Yet very clean and neat."

Though she was sickly and deform'd,

Her face was sweetly fair;

And glossy curls around her brow
Proclaim'd a mother's care.

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Ere long she passed the village school,
As, from the open door,

A train of boys came shouting forth,
Glad that their tasks were o'er :
A few, more boisterous than the rest,
Themselves erect and strong,
Began to mock the hump-back'd girl,
Who quickly walked along.

Once, Jenny utter'd sharp retorts
When jests like theirs she heard;

But now that grace had chang'd her heart,
She answer'd not a word;

Only the blush that dy'd her cheek,

And the tear that down it stole,
Show'd that the coarse, unfeeling taunts
Had sunk into her soul.

Arriv'd at home, poor Jenny sought
Her chamber, small and bare,—
Methinks those thoughtless lads had wept
If they had seen her there:

Beside her lowly bed she knelt,
And sent this prayer to heaven,
"O Father, help me to forgive,
As I have been forgiven!"

Dear children, 'tis from God above
Health, strength, and beauty come;
And He, in wisdom, has withheld
These precious gifts from some:
Be kind to such, and learn to keep
The golden rule in view,
Nor ever let a cripple hear
A cruel taunt from you,

THE CONFESSIONAL.

BY L. J. NOLAN.

(Once a Romish Priest, now a Protestant Clergyman.) DURING the last three years that I discharged the duty of a Romish clergyman, my heart often shuddered at the idea of entering the confessional. The thoughts of the many crimes I had to hear, the growing doubt upon my mind that confession was an erroneous doctrine, that it tended more to harden than reclaim the heart, and that through it I should be rendered instrumental in ministering destruction to souls, were awful considerations to me in the hours of my reflection. The recitals of the murderous acts I had often heard through this iniquitous tribunal had cost me many a restless night, and are still fixed with horror upon my memory. But the most awful of all considerations is this: that through the confessional I had been frequently apprized of intended assassinations and most diabolical conspiracies, and still, from the ungodly injunctions of secrecy in the Romish creed, lest, as Peter Den says, "the confessional should become odious," I dared not give the slightest intimation to the marked-out victims of slaughter. But though my heart now trembles at my recollection of the murderous acts, still duty obliges me to proceed and enumerate one or two instances of the kind alluded to.

The first is the case of a person who was barbarously murdered, and with whose intended assassination I became acquainted at confession. One of the five conspirators (all of whom were sworn to commit the horrid deed) broached to

me the bloody conspiracy in the confessional. I implored him to desist from his intention of becoming an accomplice to so diabolical a design; but, alas! all advice was useless, no dissuasion could prevail; his determination was fixed, and his only reason for having disclosed the awful machination to his confessor seemed to have originated from a hope that his wicked design would be hallowed by his previous acknowledgment of it to his priest.

Finding all my remonstrances unavailing, I then recurred to stratagem. I earnestly besought him to mention the circumstance to me out of the confessional, in order that I might apprize the intended victim of his danger, or caution the conspirators against the committal of so inhuman a deed. But here ingenuity itself failed in arresting the carreer of his satanic obstinacy. The conspirator's illegal oath, and his apprehension of himself becoming the victim of brutal assassination, should he be known as the revealer of the conspiracy, rendered him inflexible to my entreaties; and awful to relate yes, awful, and the hand that now pens it shudders at the record it makes a poor inoffensive man, the victim of slaughter, died a most cruel death by the hands of ruthless assassins!

The second case is that of a female administering poison to her parent. Her first attempt at parri cide proved ineffectual, owing to an immediate retching that seized the parent after taking the draught. The perpetrator of this foul deed afterwards came to confession and acknowledged her guilt; but circumstances proved that she only sought for priestly absolution to ease her mind and prepare her for a speedy repetition of the heinous crime! Again she attempted the act, and it

proved successful. I was called on to attend the dying parent. The unnatural throes and convulsive agonies of the unfortunate man convinced me that the disease was of no ordinary nature. The previous confession of his daughter, who at this time made her appearance, rushed on my mind, and suggested that the parent was a second time poisoned. From what I had known through the confessional, I could not well hint at the propriety of sending for medical attendance-for the Romish doctrine impressed an inviolable secrecy upon my lips, and prevented my giving the slightest intimation of the malady-while the poor parent, unconscious of the cause of his illhealth, died in the most excruciating agonies of which humanity can form a conception. Oh, monstrous system of confession! will you dare any longer to ascribe your origin to the Great Eternal, and thus affix to nature's God the blasphemy of your tenets? Oh, thou iniquitous tribunal-thou cloaker of crimes-thou abettor of wickednessthou brutal murderer! A child attempts the most diabolical act against a parent; but thou, by presuming to erase the past transgressions, only encouragest to a repetition of the crime! A parent suffers the most agonizing tortures, and dies in the most excruciating pains, from poison administered by an unatural daughter, but thou, polluted tribunal, wilt not allow the priest, acquainted with the circumstances, to disclose the cause of his heart-rending death. Should any acquainted with Romanism question the veracity of these statements, let him consult history, and he will find many similar facts; and every priest who has acted in the capacity of a confessor must admit the fact of similar cases frequently coming before him at the confession.