cifix or the image of the Holy Virgin; this is called going to the station. The other chapels, where the procession halts and sings an anthem, are called stations, and this name has been given to the procession itself. It is held that St. Cyril, patriarch of Alexandria, instituted this ceremony. MASS is said or sung every Sunday and every holiday, and, as the stations are the chief source of emolument, we can understand why the opportunities for mass are so surprisingly multiplied, by means of a vast number of regular festivals, with their vigils and octaves, and the many thousands of saints and martyrs, that fill the bulky martyrologium of Pope Gregory. We cannot find what days are to be distinguished by stations and masses in the present day, for we have no Popish calendar, or Laity's Directory. But it appears from a canon of the Synod of Winchester, that of the 365 days in the year no fewer than 108 were set apart for these holy purposes-(See Spelman, Concilia, t. ii., p. 259). They may have been increased in number, but not one of them has ever been abolished; and thus it appears, that within a very small portion, one-third of a working-man's life was claimed from his family for the maintenance of his parish priest, exclusively of those portions of his earnings which were grasped at birth, marriage, confessions, and death. If we exclude all the holidays but Sundays, and suppose that 1s. 6d. is the lowest sum paid on the altar, each labouring man who attends his chapel regularly pays every year £3 188., besides £1 12s. 6d. once for all for baptism, marriage, and one mass at death! If he be a good Catholic, and attend all the holidays, he will pay £7 10s. One great source of emolument can never be computed by Protestants; that is, the Confessional. But even here we can obtain an idea of the profits, and also of the crimes, for which a person of this very accommodating religion may set eternal judgment at defiance, if he is only rich enough to satisfy the priest. We select a few examples from the vellum MS. in the British Museum, which was abstracted from the archives of the Roman Chancery on the death of Innocent XII., in 1700, by John Aymon, Apostolic Prothonotary, and bought of him at a great price by Harley, Earl of Oxford. It should be observed, that Moreri and Ladvocat accuse Aymon, who was a very learned and useful writer, of "black ingratitude and theft," in taking the MS.; but, as the Rev. Mr. Mendam says, in his Spiritual Venality of Rome, p. 58. Lond. 1836, "It is to be lamented that he had not so far unlearned the morality of the church in which he was bred." The prices of the crimes are given in the corresponding English money. Absolution for a layman, who has murdered a layman at the instigation of the devil. Absolution for him who has murdered a clerk, one in orders, or a priest Absolution for a priest or a clerk for venial homicide, or homicide in defence Release for him who has broken his oath, and absolution for the sin of perjury. Absolution for Sy Absolution for perjury (in a Absolution for a priest or a priest). clerk, who is a forger and coiner, and who has forged apostolical letters. Absolutions (for crimes of which the Papal description cannot be translated for Protestant MANY of our readers will remember the Copy Line their Schoolmasters placed before them: Choose that mode of life which is the most proper, and habit will render it the most agreeable. There is much philosophy in these few simple words, and young people cannot be too deeply convinced of its importance. Nothing is really pleasant till it becomes, in a measure, easy. Difficulty and pain always go together; but such is the constitution of man, that only repetition of the act forms the habit, and then the habit becomes, according to the proverb, second nature. We shall this day introduce to our readers a good Instructor on this subject, in the person of Mr. Edwin Paxton Hood, who has just published a remarkably useful book, entitled, "Self-Education: Twelve Chapters for Young Thinkers." From one of these Chapters we select the following, which possesses a value worth thirty-six times the price of our Magazine. But we shall be much disappointed if a multitude of our readers do not procure "Self-Education" for themselves. Amongst moral habits nothing is more important than the gathering up the fragments of time. How many minutes have you to spare? Five, ten, fifteen ? Much may be done with them; we have heard of a young man who perused a history of England while waiting for his meals in a boarding house; we have heard of a mathematician, who is said to have composed an elaborate work when visiting with his wife, during the interval between the moment when she first started to take leave of their friends, and the moment she had finished her last words. "The small stones which fill up the crevices have almost as much to do with making the fair and firm wall as the great rocks; so the right and wise use of spare moments contributes not a little to the building up, in good proportions, and with strength, a man's mind." Merchants and clerks may find fifteen minutes during a few intervals of the day to learn what goes on beyond the day-book and the ledger. Mechanics and artizans may find fifteen minutes occasionally to gather a hint, a thought, a fact, an anecdote, which they may ponder over while at work. Good housewives need not be so ignorant, as, alas! they too often are; supposing the world of books is not for them, one and all of you, one and all of us, let us take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves. All our energies should be put for ward so as to produce a healthy individuality, so as to form a character. In the third volume of Mr. Coleridge's "Friend," there is a paper, the introductory one, written by the venerated Wordsworth, abounding with the most lofty maxims; yet at the same time inculcating those lessons which do not find a remote application, but one which meets us in the every-day life of the plain man; for, let it be remembered that cur eye is fixed upon no virtue which lies apart from, or transcends human nature, there is no such virtue. Such is the inherent dignity of human nature that all its sublimest and most heroic, and noblest performances, may be attained and performed by all men. There is no virtue, young man, which may not be yours. The great step to this is: of a moral sense has been questioned by many; yet everywhere the idea of duty is formed in the mind of man, and although the scale of duties differs in various nations and portions of the globe, everywhere Man has a scale of duty. There is nothing,-there can be nothing lofty about the obejctive life of the man, to whom the world, and the affairs of the world, present no lessons of commanding duty. Conscience is in the breast, listen to its commanding and authoritative voice. Let Conscience itself be educated; for Conscience, which may be called our "moral skin," is like our bodily skin, it may be made comparatively insensible, and sometimes quite so; and, therefore, some persons have argued against the existence of a conscience, an inner vision, a moral sense; and hence, again, have attempted to subvert the idea of duty, a thing of prime moral moment, and have resolved it into expediency and conveniency. As well might we nail the Magnet to the south, and deny its tendency to the north. You have heard the anecdote of the lady who was desirous of rising at six in the morning, and for this purpose purchased an alarum; the alarum was true, but the will of the lady was weak. She heard the warning the first morning, she heard it the second, the third, she heard it several mornings; but at last, although it continued to speak, she never heard, and thus it will be in the Education of the Mind to Duty. The action will be pleasant as it is prompt; the frequent neglect of the warning to exertion, to attain the standard of excellence, will leave the powers more enfeebled and benumbed than before. The Poet of our age has apostrophised Duty in words which we should all make our own: First, to Learn the Sanctity of Duty It is to be feared that thousands even of intelligent persons, and persons who are supposed to be religious beings, have no conception of greatness, of the idea of duty,-of moral accountableness of the meaning of the word Ought; but it is certain that nothing is done well until it is done from the sense of a controlling principle of inherent and essential rightness. Duty is the child of Love, and, therefore, there is power in all its teachings and commands. What can go on well without this?-Will our intellectual progress be considerable ?-Shall we feel fresh incentives in every page and every study? The obtaining of knowledge is not always enchantment-does not always seem the reading of a Fairy Tale, or the bewitchment of the Arabian Nights' Entertainment; and when the road is rugged, and the way long and weary, when the head aches, and the pulse is languid, what then will sustain the spirit ?-what then will animate in the pursuit? Duty and love, love to knowledge, and the sense of high principle; of the imperative importance of seizing upon every method and agency by which the faculties of the spirit may so expand as to make it more worthy of its origin and its destiny; and actions and books, and all the routine of daily life should be examined beneath the light of a conception of Duty. The universality nature that, that which is performed "To humble functions, awful Power, It is a beautiful arrangement in the MANY of our readers will remember the Copy Line their Schoolmasters placed before them: Choose that mode of life which is the most proper, and habit will render it the most agreeable. There is much philosophy in these few simple words, and young people cannot be too deeply convinced of its importance. Nothing is really pleasant till it becomes, in a measure, easy. Difficulty and pain always go together; but such is the constitution of man, that only repetition of the act forms the habit, and then the habit becomes, according to the proverb, second nature. We shall this day introduce to our readers a good Instructor on this subject, in the person of Mr. Edwin Paxton Hood, who has just published a remarkably useful book, entitled, "Self-Education: Twelve Chapters for Young Thinkers." From one of these Chapters we select the following, which possesses a value worth thirty-six times the price of our Magazine. But we shall be much disappointed if a multitude of our readers do not procure "Self-Education" for themselves. Amongst moral habits nothing is more important than the gathering up the fragments of time. How many minutes have you to spare? Five, ten, fifteen ? Much may be done with them; we have heard of a young man who perused a history of England while waiting for his meals in a boarding house; we have heard of a mathematician, who is said to have composed an elaborate work when visiting with his wife, during the interval between the moment when she first started to take leave of their friends, and the moment she had finished her last words. "The small stones which fill up the crevices have almost as much to do with making the fair and firm wall as the great rocks; so the right and wise use of spare moments contributes not a little to the building up, in good proportions, and with strength, a man's mind." Merchants and clerks may find fifteen minutes during a few intervals of the day to learn what goes on beyond the day-book and the ledger. Mechanics and artizans may find fifteen minutes occasionally to gather a hint, a thought, a fact, an anecdote, which they may ponder over while at work. Good housewives need not be so ignorant, as, alas! they too often are; supposing the world of books is not for them, one and all of you, one and all of us, let us take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves. All our energies should be put for ward so as to produce a healthy individuality, so as to form a character. In the third volume of Mr. Coleridge's “Friend," there is a paper, the introductory one, written by the venerated Wordsworth, abounding with the most lofty maxims; yet at the same time inculcating those lessons which do not find a remote application, but one which meets us in the every-day life of the plain man; for, let it be remembered that cur eye is fixed upon no virtue which lies apart from, or transcends human nature, there is no such virtue. Such is the inherent dignity of human nature that all its sublimest and most heroic, and noblest performances, may be attained and performed by all men. There is no virtue, young man, which may not be yours. The great step to this is: of a moral sense has been questioned by many; yet everywhere the idea of duty is formed in the mind of man, and although the scale of duties differs in various nations and portions of the globe, everywhere Man has a scale of duty. There is nothing,-there can be nothing lofty about the obejctive life of the man, to whom the world, and the affairs of the world, present no lessons of commanding duty. Conscience is in the breast, listen to its commanding and authoritative voice. Let Conscience itself be educated; for Conscience, which may be called our "moral skin," is like our bodily skin, it may be made comparatively insensible, and sometimes quite so; and, therefore, some persons have argued against the existence of a conscience, an inner vision, a moral sense; and hence, again, have attempted to subvert the idea of duty, a thing of prime moral moment, and have resolved it into expediency and conveniency. As well might we nail the Magnet to the south, and deny its tendency to the north. You have heard the anecdote of the lady who was desirous of rising at six in the morning, and for this purpose purchased an alarum; the alarum was true, but the will of the lady was weak. She heard the warning the first morning, she heard it the second, the third, she heard it several mornings; but at last, although it continued to speak, she never heard, and thus it will be in the Education of the Mind to Duty. The action will be pleasant as it is prompt; the frequent neglect of the warning to exertion, to attain the standard of excellence, will leave the powers more enfeebled and benumbed than before. The Poet of our age has apostrophised Duty in words which we should all make our own: First, to Learn the Sanctity of Duty It is to be feared that thousands even of intelligent persons, and persons who are supposed to be religious beings, have no conception of greatness, of the idea of duty,-of moral accountableness of the meaning of the word Ought; but it is certain that nothing is done well until it is done from the sense of a controlling principle of inherent and essential rightness. Duty is the child of Love, and, therefore, there is power in all its teachings and commands. What can go on well without this ?-Will our intellectual progress be considerable ?- Shall we feel fresh incentives in every page and every study? The obtaining of knowledge is not always enchantment-does not always seem the reading of a Fairy Tale, or the bewitchment of the Arabian Nights' Entertainment; and when the road is rugged, and the way long and weary, when the head aches, and the pulse is languid, what then will sustain the spirit ?-what then will animate in the pursuit? Duty and love, love to knowledge, and the sense of high principle; of the imperative importance of seizing upon every method and agency by which the faculties of the spirit may so expand as to make it more worthy of its origin and its destiny; and actions and books, and all the routine of daily life should be examined beneath the light of a conception of Duty. The universality nature that, that which is performed "To humble functions, awful Power, It is a beautiful arrangement in the |