himself, the other half he divides into two parts, one for the deacon, and the other for the sub-deacon. Next the clergy and monks communicate, and after them the people, but the latter have only the consecrated wafer (or bread) allowed them, and put in their mouths, the cup being withheld from them, and drunk by the priests or clergy only. The priest holds the chalice (or cup) with both hands, and drinks three times, pretending thereby to signify the Trinity. The whole is concluded with what they call postcommunion, which consists in thanksgiving and singing of Antiphonies. The priest then kisses the altar, and removes again to the right side of it, where, having offered some prayers for the people and blessed them, the deacon with a loud voice cries, "Go in peace; the host is sent to God the Father, to pacify his anger."

6

Behold, O Christian reader, a faint outline of the chief parts of the MASS. To comprehend the imposing puerility you must see it. I repeat nothing of what we said of the idolatrous and outrageous insult offered by it to the one only atonement of our blessed Redeemer: I now speak of it as a splendid compound of imposition, quackery, and childish inventions, played off upon an ignorant, gaping assembly, by large and bearded youths, each of whom, as a sophomore, is taught to strut his boyish parts on the ecclesiastical stage of the consecrated theatre, and to go through his ghostly pantomime.'

SABBATH MUSINGS.

No. X.

THAT'happiness is a 'Will o' the Wisp,' ever attracting, still eluding the eager hand outstretched to grasp it,' is one of the most common-place truisms in daily use among us. We have been accustomed to hear it from our cradles: the same moral sounds in our ears wherever we turn in this delusive world,-and yet, however ready the assent we give to so acknowledged a fact, it is, perhaps, in our secret hearts, the last we are willing to admit. High even over the wreck of our hopes rises the bright, the far, the unattained object, the beau ideal to which the heart still clings, and yearns after it with desperate fondness and hydra-headed aspirations; that are cut off in one direction only to spring up more vigorously in another. Hence it is, that the checks and disappointments we meet with at many a stage of our journey through life, are, to sensitive minds especially, fraught with such bitter poignancy. To the child of God on such occasions this feeling is aggravated by another and a painful one. While writhing in the pangs of disappointment at the frustration of some cherished object of his wishes, he is alarmed and dismayed to find how keenly he feels that disappointment. He, whose treasure and whose heart should be in heaven! Alas! at such moments how painful is the discovery

of the strong hold the things of the earth still maintain over him! He had been fondly deceiving himself with the idea that his affections were set on things above, and now his wounded spirit testifies but too surely that he too is pursuing the 'Will o' the wisp,' lured by that fatal phantom away from the solid joys that lie beyond the ever receding horizon of earthly happiness. It is, I am convinced, in great mercy that our heavenly Father ordains us to be now and again baffled in our dearest earthly hopes. The medicine is bitter,-hard to take; and we turn away from the cup with many a throe; but our wise and kind Physician can bless what his hand has mixed, if we ask him to do so, and humble ourselves as we ought. Oh that those chastenings, which, though often unknown and apparently trifling in the eyes of the world, are, nevertheless, so grievous to the sensitive and the sanguine,-oh that they may be received with submission, and afterwards yield the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby !

Divine grace, which renews the heart, and completely changes its objects and aspirings, is of course the only means of effectually disabusing it in the vain pursuit of earthly peace. Increased experience and reflection, and above all the view of the constant restlessness that pervades every class of society, shew us plainly that man is above his situation,-that he feels the stirrings of a nobler principle within, and that the cravings of the immortal are not to be satisfied with any thing, no matter how exalted, which this world can afford. The Holy Spirit has taught the regenerate person the cause of this. He understands something of the nature of the God-like image from which

sin caused man to fall: he knows that that image is not totally effaced, and recognizes its voice in the insatiable yearnings and longings after better things than can be found here below. He knows where these things alone are to be obtained, and seeks them not in a scene where the time is short, of which the fashion passeth away, which is not our rest, for we have no continuing city here.

The natural man, on the contrary, impelled by the same restless desires after the unattained, and whose views do not extend beyond the grave, commences a fruitless search in this world for the peace which this world cannot give. Every one imagines that it is to be found in some particular position which he does not occupy. The high-born damsel, surrounded even to surfeiting, with all that can minister to taste, luxury and refinement, leans back in her cushioned equipage in listless discontent, and directs an envious glance towards the bright-eyed cottage maiden, past whose lowly dwelling she is borne. Visions of Arcadian peace and sylvan happiness, far from the cloying, wearying pomps of the world, float across her imagination; and amid scenes of village life and cheerful toil, the quiet stream, the busy mill, the shady walk, the harvest home, the hay-field, the picturesque cottage with its clustering vines and smiling garden, -she builds her airy castle of happiness. Meanwhile, the rustic maiden pauses in her work ;—she lays down her pail to take a long gaze at the jewelled beauty sweeping by, pillowed in luxury and pomp. The rosy smile of health and exercise dies away from her round cheek,—a shade darkens her merry black eye, and a sigh of intense admiration and envy swells her kerchief as she looks after the brilliant

equipage, and thinks how supremely blest must be its happy occupant! The unlearned imagines that intellectual attainments procure happiness, while the learned and the cultivated exclaim that 'Ignorance is bliss,' and declare that to refine the feelings is only to make them more acutely alive to painful impressions; and that the beauty of the polish is too dearly bought at the cost of the rubs and injuries to which it is rendered liable.

One reason of our proneness to place happiness in a situation foreign to our own, is that we see ourselves as we are, and "the heart knoweth its own bitterness: " whereas others appear decked out in the conventional smiles of society,-that mask which keeps out of view the hopes and fears, anxieties and annoyances that throb alike in every human breast. Could we see into the homes and hearts of others, how far more justly should we estimate the impartiality of our heavenly Father in the distribution of his gifts, how much more gratefully and contentedly should we receive that portion which he has been pleased to allot to ourselves! I have often thought how delightful it would be to have, just for one hour, the power possessed by Le Sage's diable boiteux, of knowing what is going on in the interiors around: not for the gratification of idle curiosity, but as an interesting picture of human nature in its many shades and varieties. One of the most amusing promenades I ever made, and which afforded a glimpse into many little domestic scenes of this kind, was through the streets of a town where a general illumination was going on. It was on the occasion of the return to parliament of a popular candidate; disturbances were expected, and the military had been