nient creed, have for the most part taken that step in the confusion, alarm, and perhaps delirium of a dying hour. But the closing exclamation shows us the ground of the Papist's exultation. Death, he says, is the great enlightener, the great truth-teller, and his verdict shows that the Protestant faith is often felt to be one on which it is unsafe to venture into the presence of the Eternal Judge. The conclusion which it is intended every Protestant should apply to his own case, would evidently suggest a doubt, whether he himself will find it, in his last hour, a sound and satisfactory support.

Yet is there not something in this Romish exultation, which may remind us of the opening chapters of the book of Job? Might not Satan, were he now allowed "to present himself" at intervals before the Lord, often venture on a similar attempt at selfgratulation?

Were the Prince of Darkness thus permitted to address the Lord of life and glory, he might proceed in just such a line of observation: "How much more natural, how much more voluntarily paid, is the homage and obedience rendered me by my subjects, than that accorded to you by yours. Not only does the far larger portion of the earth still acknowledge my supremacy, but the service of the myriads of my worshippers, is a willing and ready service. On the other hand, among those who profess to yield you obedience, at least four-fifths, in their hearts, would prefer my rule. What multitudes are there, who spend their lives in feigned adherence to your power, but who, on their death-beds, are clearly seen to have been, in fact, my subjects rather than yours, and to belong, as such, to my countless muster-roll below."

Such might be Satan's boast; and a boast, too, quite as well founded as that just quoted from the Romish divine. But although the fact alluded to by Dr. Milner is of too fearful a cast to seem well adapted for a controversial tract, still, as it is adduced, and adduced with more than usual emphasis, it may be as well not to rest content with showing how it might be

paralleled, but rather to give also what appears to be the only true explanation.

It will doubtless not unseldom occur, in a country like this, with twelve or fourteen millions of people, brought up in a nominal profession of Protestantism, myriads of whom, however, never hear even the slightest attempt at an explanation of the name,— that individuals drawing near to death, without any previous expectation of, or preparation for it, and overwhelmed with an alarm which makes them fly in turn to every conceivable refuge or resource,— shall sometimes, among other expedients, fall upon that of a sudden conversion to Popery. These persons may, for the most part, be classed under two heads, as to their previous circumstances and cases; but their motive for embracing Romanism is one and the same; to wit, a direful certainty to which they have just awakened, that the sort of religion they have heretofore followed will not yield them peace in a dying hour; and an eager flying to Popery, as a creed which holds out strong and positive assurances, that a certainty of safety belongs to all who truly profess it.

The two classes alluded to, are, 1. The Careless, and, 2. the Pharisaical. The first have been following, all their days, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life;" and now death seizes upon them unawares, and they are filled with terror. The second have been aiming to live a religious life, and have been expecting that that religious life, consisting of sundry prayers, and fastings, and churchgoings, and alms-givings, would bring them peace at the last, although He who is the only Peace-maker between God and man, has scarcely filled even a secondary place in their devotions. But now eternity opens to their view; their religious life begins to weigh lighter and lighter in their estimation, when balanced against the demands of God's pure and holy law; and they too, as well as the careless, are filled with alarm.

To either class the message of the Protestant min

ister is the same. He has no passport to heaven to give or to sell them. He stands by their bed-side a poor helpless sinner like themselves, and he has but one word suited to their case. That word is, "Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world!"?

But constant experience proves that there is no refuge which human nature, even in its greatest alarm, will not prefer to this. And if, in this moment of doubt and dismay, Popery comes in with her vast pretensions, and tells the frightened sinner, "Behold the TRUE CHURCH, out of which you cannot be saved, and in which you cannot be lost; here is extreme unction for your body; a new sacrifice of Christ's actual body to be again, this very moment, offered up for your soul; here is an infinite treasury of merit in the possession of the church, part of which, by almsgiving, you may procure to be set to your account; and here are prayers both of saints above and saints below, all which the church can apply for your rescue from the purifying fires of purgatory,"-we say, who shall wonder that with all these magnificent offers pressed upon her acceptance, poor human nature, except omnipotent grace commands a rescue, turns from the simple call to faith in a Saviour, and eagerly embraces the tempting offers of the universal deceiver?*

The clenching argument, however, with the hesitating mind, in such a case as this, is that which we are now about to consider. The Protestant minister pretends to no infallibility, either in himself or in his church. He offers, as the alone guide, the word of God-the Bible. But the poor creature before him has, perhaps, and knows that he has, but a few hours to live, and despairs of understanding such a volume in that short space; while to receive the wonderful message, "Believe and thy sins shall be blotted out," seems impossible without some stronger assuranceof its truth.

7

*Rev. xviii. 23.

The Romish priest, on the other hand, if he claims not infallibility for himself, boldly and strenuously asserts it as the attribute of his church. In the words of Dr. Milner, he declares that "the Catholic church is the divinely commissioned guardian and interpreter of the word of God; and that, therefore, the method appointed by Christ for learning what he has taught, on the various articles of his religion, is to hear the church propounding them." "This method," he proceeds, "is the only one which leads to the peace and unity of the Christian church, and the only one which affords tranquillity and security to individual Christians during life, and at the trying hour of their dissolution." "Thus you have only to hear what the church teaches upon the several articles of her faith, in order to know with certainty what God has revealed concerning them.Ӡ

It is this conclusive assumption, this assertion of a fact which the poor man has neither time nor strength to dispute, and which, if true, makes all safe, and assures him of salvation, that mainly tends to these death-bed conversions, as it does, also, to most of those which occur in health, and after calmer consideration. And, as it evidently lies at the very foundation of the whole argument, cutting the ground itself, if it be true, from under Protestantism, it seems both expedient, and in fact necessary, to commence any discussion on the doctrines and pretensions of Romanism, at this preliminary point.

But in what way shall the inquiry be conducted? It seems to us that the most intelligible and practical course will be to individualize, if we may so call it, the investigation; by imagining, not an abstract argument, but a real inquirer.

Our readers and writers on Popery, in this country, are too often either vehement opponents from their very birth, or else men who, from their ultra views of churchmanship, are favourably disposed towards Popery. In either of these cases the cause has been

* End of Controv. p. 536.

+ Ibid p. 173.

virtually decided before a word of the argument has been heard. But the more honest seeker after truth will not contend for victory, but will look for satisfaction. We can have no difficulty in picturing to ourselves such an one. Take the man whose life has been spent in various parts of the world, whether in commercial pursuits, or in the service of his country. He has lived among all religions, and yet has, from that very circumstance, attached himself to none. Various warnings suggest to him the shortness and uncertainty of life, and he feels that, as yet, all beyond the present scene is a matter of dread uncertainty. He therefore begins to inquire, in earnest, which is the way of salvation. But here he is beset by the various claims of the various churches and sects, and feels bewildered amidst the different schemes which are presented to his notice.

Thus far, however, he has advanced, and that so carefully as to be thoroughly settled in the conviction, That it is wholly absurd and irrational to suppose that the world or its inhabitants came into existence by chance, or that the human race originated itself: That the Creator of the visible universe must be a being of inconceivable power, wisdom, and benevolence, and that it is most improbable that, having made mankind, he would cast them loose to follow their own devices, without any further care about their fate or their conduct: That something within warns him of the existence of a principle, which the sleep of the body does not cause to slumber, and which it is not conceivable that the dissolution of the body will destroy: That a secret consciousness of the difference between good and evil, and an impression of a future retribution, connected with the previous observations, convince him of the great probability, at least, of an hereafter; in which he will have to know the Author of his being, and, what is still more important, will be called to account by him for all the actions of his life.

But this train of thought carries him forward, at once, to the most interesting question which can