Chapter V. Popery, Paganism.

ALTHOUGH the claim of the Pope to universal supremacy was not established until AD 606 (and is even now vigorously disputed by many loyal sons of Holy Mother), the candid historian is nevertheless ready to admit that the superstition denominated by Paul “an apostasy,” was, in all its chief features, distinctly visible prior to the arrogant assumptions of Boniface III. He, in the office of supreme Pontiff, did little more than sanction existing rites and enforce uniformity. The errors in doctrine and practice which have since attained such importance, and produced results so momentous, were most of them engrafted upon Christianity during the three preceding centuries. Whence they came is easily determined. Paganism was their fruitful source.

The motive which prompted to the introduction of these forms, adapting, as was supposed, the new religion to the deep-seated prejudices of the heathen, may have been, nay, we may say, certainly was, praiseworthy. With the fervent desire of becoming all things to all men, that they might by all means some, the early Christians, with the aid of imposing ceremonies and magnificent rites borrowed from Paganism, thought to win for Christ those who despised the simplicity of Christian worship. *

This policy, laudable in motive, was, however, exceedingly disastrous in its results. To purity of religion consequences the most pernicious ensued, Paganism began to supplant Christianity, leaving little save the name. The change in many doctrines and practices was indeed gradual—Rome boasts of her tardiness, deeming it wise deliberation—but on that account none the less real. Thus, the worship of images, though extensively prevalent in the beginning of the fourth century, was not established till the ninth. The sacrifice of the mass—Rome’s offering of human flesh—though originating about the middle of the fifth century, and almost universally believed in the ninth, being logically and compactly fitted into the system, an essential part thereof, was not erected into a dogma until the time of Pope Innocent III, at the fourth Council of the Lateran, AD. 1215. (Mosheim, III. chap. iii. part 2.) So likewise the invocation of saints, practised to some extent in the middle of the third century, was without ecclesiastical sanction till the ninth. No less gradual was her adoption of the doctrine of purgatory, that relic of ancient heathenism. So likewise the use of lamps, candles, incense, holy water, and priestly robes, became universal only by silencing opposition continued through centuries. But the gradual importation of these ceremonies, and the slowness with which they grew into favor, in no way affect their heathen origin. That Romanism is Paganism perpetuated, we shall endeavor to prove.

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* Gregory, in his instructions given to Augustine, missionary to Britain, says: “Whereas it is custom among the Saxons to slay abundance of oxen, and sacrifice them to the devil, you must not abolish that custom, but appoint a new festival to be kept either on the day of the consecration of the churches, or the birthday of the saints whose relics are deposited there, and on those days the Saxons may be allowed to make arbors round the temples changed into churches, to kill their oxen and to feast, as they did while they were Pagans, only they shall offer their thanks and praises, not to the devil, but to God.” Says Mosheim: “This addition of external rites was also designed to remove the opprobrious calumnies which the Jewish and Pagan priests cast upon the Christians on account of the simplicity of their worship, esteeming them little better than atheists, because they had no temples, altars, victims, priests, nor any thing of that external pomp in which the vulgar are so prone to place the essence of religion. The rulers of the Church adopted, therefore, certain external ceremonics, that thus they might captivate the senses of the vulgar and be able to refute the reproaches of their adversaries, thus obscuring the native luster of the Gospel in order to extend its influence, and making it lose, in point of real excellence, what it gained in point of popular esteem.”

It was during the three centuries that elapsed between the pretended conversion of Constantine and the pontificate of Boniface III. that most of Rome’s customs and many of her doctrines were imported from heathenism. The religion of Jesus became a mere form, and not a life. Those who once, as idolaters, worshiped Jupiter and the host of gods, afterward, while worshiping the same images under the names of saints and martyrs, claimed to be Christians. As a necessary result, the same ceremonies, in the main, prevailed in the churches of these so-called followers of Jesus as in the Pagan temples. At the door of the temple stood a vase of holy water, from which the people sprinkled themselves.* How exactly has Rome copied this custom! Go into any Romish chapel or cathedral, and you will find the vessel containing the consecrated water, and modern heathens crossing themselves. The very composition of the water is the same, a mixture of salt with common water.

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* “The Amula was a vase of holy water, placed by the heathens at the door of their temples, to sprinkle themselves with.”—Montfaucon.

One of the most ridiculous uses to which this water is applied, the sprinkling of horses, mules and asses, is, like all the other customs, borrowed from ancient Rome. On the Festival of St. Anthony, observed annually in the eternal city, the priest, dressed in sacerdotal robes, after muttering some Latin words, intended as a charm against sickness, death, famine, and danger, sprinkles with a huge brush all the animals brought in from the surrounding country, blasphemously repeating, “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Sancti Spiritus.” St. Anthony, taking literally the command, “Preach the Gospel to every creature,” concluded that the “Good Tidings” ought to be proclaimed to the inferior creation, to birds, beasts, and fishes. Hence the Pope has in the Vatican a picture representing even fish as devoutly listening, heads out of water, to a preaching friar! It is on the 17th of January that the festival of this famous St. Anthony, patron of animals, is celebrated. When this falls on Sabbath, great is the concourse, uproarious is the merriment, profitable indeed is the laughable farce: neighing horses, braying asses, bleating sheep, barking dogs, men, women, and children, each rivaling the other in loquacity, shouting priests, the rattling carriages of cardinals and nobles, and the clink of the fees as they drop into the sacred treasury, produce together a din that Pandemonium might envy, possibly could equal, certainly could not surpass. The entire scene is one that would almost certainly prove fatal to an old Pagan philosopher, should he rise from his grave. A fit of laughter would speedily terminate his second existence. And this benediction in this nineteenth century! The wheel of progress must be moving backwards. The dark age must be the present, the midnight in Rome. And then to see an ass pulled by the tail to the door of the church to receive perforce St. Anthony’s blessing, kicking and raising its solemn voice in earnest protest, and going home, tail straight out and head down, sighing, “Life is a failure.” Well! human nature, as it exists among Protestants, could endure only one such exhibition.

Even Romanists themselves regard this sprinkling of animals as a Pagan custom, perfected by the touch of infallibility. The old Romans, say they, were accustomed to sprinkle the horses at the Circensian games. It guarded them, it was believed, against evil spirits and accidents in the race. “Once on a time,” says a Catholic legend, “the horses of some Christians outran those of the heathen, because they were sprinkled with holy water.” Therefore this custom ought to be perpetuated; it has the sanction of God, the venerableness of antiquity, and was introduced by a saint, the great Anthony! The following may be found over the vessels of holy water in the Church of S. Carlo Borromeo, in the Corso, at Rome:

“Holy water possesses much usefulness when Christians sprinkle themselves with it with due reverence and devotion. The Holy Church proposes it as a remedy and assistant in many circumstances both spiritual and corporeal, but especially in these following:

“It’s Spiritual Usefulness.

“1. It drives away devils from places and from persons.

“2. Tt affords great assistance against fears and diabolical illusions.

“3. It cancels venial sins.

“4. It imparts strength to resist temptations and occasions to sin.

“5. It drives away wicked thoughts.

“6. It preserves safely from the passing snares of the devil, both internally and externally.

“7. It obtains the favor and presence of the Holy Ghost, by which the soul is consoled, rejoiced, and excited to devotion and disposed to prayer.

“8. It prepares the mind for a better attendance on the divine mysteries, and receiving piously and worthily the most Holy Sacrament.

“Its Corporeal Usefulness.

“1. It is a remedy against barrenness in women and beasts.

“2. It is a preservation from sickness.

“3. It heals the infirmities both of the mind and of the body.

“4. It purifies infected air and drives away plague and contagion.”

Wonderful water!

Nor is the use of holy water their only conspicuous theft. Clouds of smoke, we are told, arose from the burning incense as the idol worshipers entered the temple.* This custom of using incense for religious purposes was so peculiarly pagan, and felt, both by Christians and their enemies, as so strikingly unbecoming those who worshiped the humble Nazarene, that the method most frequently adopted by the heathen persecutors of testing the fidelity of a Christian to his convictions was to order him to throw incense into the censer. If he refused, he was accounted a Christian; if he threw even the least particle upon the altar, he was acquitted and classed among Pagans. In the churches of the great apostasy no one can fail to notice the use of perfumes. Often their cathedrals remain filled with the fumes of the incense for some considerable time after the services are concluded.

Closer still is Rome’s resemblance to Paganism. The heathen worshiper, on entering the temple, knelt before an idol and offered prayers. The devout papist, as he enters the church, often may be found kneeling before an image of the Virgin, praying, “O Holy Mary! MY SOVEREIGN QUEEN, AND Most Loving Mother! RECEIVE ME UNDER THY BLESSED PATRONAGE, AND SPECIAL PROTECTION, AND INTO THE BOSOM OF THY MERCY, THIS DAY, AND EVERY DAY, AND AT THE HOUR OF MY DEATH.”

“O GREAT, EXCELLENT, AND MOST GLORIOUS LADY, PROSTRATE AT THE FOOT OF THY THRONE, WE ADORE THEE FROM THIS VALLEY OF TEARS.”* “HAIL HOLY QUEEN, MOTHER OF MERCY, OUR LIFE, OUR SWEETNESS, AND OUR HOPE! TO THEE WE CRY, POOR BANISHED SONS OF EVE, TO THEE WE SEND OUR SIGHS, MOURNING AND WEEPING IN THIS VALLEY OF TEARS. TURN THEN, MOST GRACIOUS ADVOCATE! THY EYES OF MERCY TOWARDS US.”

“O HOLY MOTHER OF OUR GOD!
To THEE FOR HELP WE FLY;
DESPISE NOT THIS OUR HUMBLE PRAYER,
BUT ALL OUR WANTS SUPPLY.”

Were the most degraded of the heathen ever guilty of idolatry grosser than this ?

That they might clearly evidence the heathen origin of their customs, particulars seemingly the most insignificant were not allowed to pass into disuse. Even the arrangement of images in rows around the temple, the most highly prized standing alone in the most conspicuous place, has been slavishly copied, not only in centuries past, but in this late age. Nay, even the priest, dressed in robes apparently after the very pattern of those that decked the priests of ancient Rome, and attended, like his predecessors, by a boy in white, swings his pot of incense precisely as an old heathen in Homer’s time may be presumed to have done.

Laboriously endeavoring to exhaust the Pagan ritual, candles are kept burning before each altar and idol. In the churches of Italy they hang up lamps at every altar, says Mabillon. The Egyptians, says Herodotus, first introduced the use of lamps in worship. Rollin says (vol. i., pt. 2, ch. 2), “A festival surnamed the Feast of Lights, was solemnized at Sais. All persons throughout all Egypt, who did not go to Sais, were obliged to illuminate their windows.” So strikingly conspicuous was this part of the heathen worship, that the early Christians tauntingly said of their foes— “They light up candles to God as if he lived in the dark, . . . offering lamps to the Author and Giver of Light.”

Even the fiction of Purgatory, of which Gregory the Great has generally been represented by Papists as creator, and which has ever proved a source of immense wealth to the Pope and the clergy, is evidently an importation from Paganism. Like most of the other customs of the man of sin, it came in soon after Constantine’s pretended conversion, when Christianity became fashionable, and to men ambitious of distinction at the court, extremely profitable. Unknown to the Christian Church during the first five centuries, it was, however, well known in the heathen world even so early as Homer’s time. It is the old fire purification of souls; and the ceremonies now employed for the relief of those suffering the tormenting flames are remarkably similar to those anciently employed by Pagan priests. In fact the doctrine was so purely heathen, that not even Popish ingenuity could invent even an argument in its favor. Hence the Jesuit Cottonus, failing to find a passage in Scripture that would infallibly confirm it, implored the devil to assist him. For once even Satan himself was unable to wrest Scripture to his purpose. But, notwithstanding the small, the exceedingly unimportant consideration that no proof, except visions and dreams and assertion, was found, the Popes were able in the end to establish infallibly everything connected with purgatorial fires, and locate them at the earth’s center, 18,300.5 miles below the surface. Infallibility doesn’t need to know geography!

Their custom of invoking the dead is of heathen origin. The true Church of God never offered prayers to deceased mortals. The ancient Romans, however, deified their great men, and sought blessings from them. And the Papists, imitating their example, canonize those whom they honor during life, offer incense to them, bow before them and supplicate their assistance. Thus in “The Litany of Saints,” found in “The Catholic Manual,” their ordinary book of prayer, we find these petitions :

St. Stephen!
St. Laurence!
St. Vincent!
St. Fabian, and St. Sebastian!
St. John, and St. Paul!
St. Cosmas, and St. Damian!
St. Gervase, and St. Protase!
All ye holy Martyrs!
St. Sylvester!
St. Gregory!
St. Ambrose!
St. Augustin!
St. Jerom!
All ye holy Bishops and Confessors!
All ye holy Doctors!
St. Anthony!
St. Bennet!
St. Bernard!
St. Dominick!
St. Francis!
All ye holy Priests, and Levites!
All ye holy Monks, and Hermits!
St. Mary Magdalen!
St. Agatha!
St. Lucy!
St. Agnes!
St. Cecily ! (ete. for two more pages!) Make intercession for us !

And from the Freeman’s Journal (Sept. 24, 1870) we learn that the Archbishop of Cincinnati, in an address delivered at the ceremonies attending the depositing of relics in the convent of the St. Franciscan Sisters (Cincinnati), piously exhorted all devout Catholics to ask the mediation of St. Aureliana. The mortal remains of this saint, after sixteen centuries’ quiet rest, were taken (a chance to exercise faith), from the Catacombs of Rome, artistically encased in wax, transported across the Atlantic, and now rest, the object of devout veneration, in the metropolis of the West! This remarkable relic is the fruit of the indomitable perseverance of Mrs. Sarah Peters, the zealous convert whose untiring zeal was rewarded with the rare and blessed privilege of hearing mass said by Pope Pio Nono (Pope Pius IX) at the grave of St. Peter, beneath St. Peter’s, Rome. The tasteful correspondent of the paper, now so zealously engaged in raising Peter’s pence for “the infallible judge in faith and morals, the bishop of the Universal Church,” says, “The figure as it lay would have been “exquisite, had it not been marred by the ugly gash in the throat, and an appearance of wounds on the hands and feet, caused by pieces of the bones which were encased, being set in the white wax for the better veneration of the faithful.” Great indeed must be the faith which prompts persons, of even the least common sense, to venerate as the remains of the “virgin martyr of the proud and royal Aurelian family,” a wax figure, with a ghastly gash in the throat, and the bones sticking out! And what must be the superstition which leads to the invocation of this resurrected saint! We live in the year 1871, and boast of the world’s progress!

This idolatrous custom no doubt originated in veneration paid to departed worthies. Those, however, who so far conformed to heathen practices, soon offered worship to the creature. So universal became this superstition that even the ancient temple, sacred to Romulus, where infants were presented by their Pagan mothers to be cured of diseases, was consecrated to a Roman saint, Theodorus, to whom Catholic mothers present their sick children for healing. Nay, even the Pantheon, house of all the gods, the most celebrated heathen temple of antiquity, was rededicated by Pope Boniface IV. “to the blessed Virgin and all the saints And to this day, with the gods of old Rome bearing the names of Popish saints, the old Pagan worship, in all its essential features, is continued. There the traveller from every Catholic country may find his patron saint, and worship at his altar. And as with the Pantheon so with the other heathen temples; with the same ceremonies they worship the same idols under new names. Diana, Juno, Ceres, and Venus became the Virgin under different titles. Bacchus became St. Joseph. Orpheus and Apollo were regarded as types of Christ. Even the same festivals were perpetuated under new names, and consecrated to the commemoration of Christian anniversaries. The Liberalia were made to yield to the festival of St. Joseph, the ceremonies being slightly changed. The Palilia were retained as a festival in honor of St. John. The feast of St. Peter ad Vincula superseded the festival commemorative of Augustus’ victory at Actium. The Floralia, when the streets were strewn with flowers arranged in fantastic forms, were devoted to Our Lady. Even the wild festivities of the Saturnalia were in some measure retained in the excesses which were allowed at Christmas and Epiphany. The Cerealia, in honor of Ceres, the goddess of corn, were transformed into the visitation of the Virgin—the processions of women and virgins, in white robes, vowing chastity and strewing their beds with “agnus castus” being retained. In consequence of the vast increase in the number of saints, the list of heathen festivals was exhausted, so in AD 835, Gregory IV. established the feast of ALL SAINTS.

A recent traveller to Rome says:— “You frequently see persons prostrate before images, and in a state of the greatest apparent devotion, even if these images are formed out of materials taken from heathen temples. At Pisa I saw several females prostrate before the statues of Adam and Eve, which are exhibited in a state of almost entire nudity. The celebrated statue of St. Peter, in the Church of St. Peter’s at Rome, the toe of which is almost literally kissed away, was originally a statue of Jupiter, taken from the capitol. Many of the altars and ornaments in the churches, are entirely heathen in their origin and appearance. Naked forms in marble abound in all the churches. Many of the vases used for baptismal purposes, and those containing the Holy Water, were anciently used for similar purposes in the days of heathenism.”

Such unseemly haste has characterized Rome’s propensity to manufacture saints, that some ridiculous mistakes have occurred. Thus, they have canonized Julia Evodia, a heathen, respecting whom nothing is known except that she erected a tombstone to her heathen mother. They have, by the power of the keys, infallibly converted a mountain into a saint, Mount Soracte, becoming S. Oracte, St. Oreste. They have also a St. Viar, manufactured by a procrustean process from PrefectuS VIARum, overseer of roads; a sainted cloak, and a sainted handkerchief. In honor of the last-mentioned saint, whose surface bears an impression of the Saviour’s face, a true image, made as he wiped his face at the execution, Pope John XXII. composed a prayer as follows :—* HAIL HOLY FACE OF OUR REDEEDMER, PRINTED UPON A CLOTH AS WHITE AS SNOW; PURGE US FROM ALL SPOT OF VICE, AND JOIN US TO THE COMPANY OF THE BLESSED. BRING US TO OUR COUNTRY, O HAPPY FIGURE, THERE TO SEE THE PURE FACE OF CHRIST.” This sacred relic—preserved in St. Peter’s, where is an altar erected hy Pope Urban VIII. to the honor of Veronica, “vera icon,” the true image—grants, according to Pope Innocent III, ten days’ indulgence to all who visit it. Shades of Paganism, did ever superstition equal that! “His Infallibility,” Pope Pius IX., certainly deserves commiseration. To be the rock which shall support this mighty fabric of baptized Paganism, must be an oppressive life!

And to make the resemblance to heathenism complete in everything pertaining to saints, “ Holy Mother” earnestly recommends every Catholic to select some particular saint as a protecting divinity, a patron. Thus, in a “Catechism and Instructions” designed for very small children by M. C. Kavanagh, and having the unqualified commendation of one of Rome’s most honored Archbishops, occurs this pious advice, “ You should never be without some object of piety, such as a Crucifix, picture of Our Lady, your good Angel, or Patron Saint, in your bedroom.” Anciently, every Roman family had its penates, its household gods, a necessary appendage to every dwelling.

Their priestly power is an imitation of Pagan spiritual despotism. In the true Church, “all are kings and priests unto God.” Even the most humble, unknown, ignorant, and even sinful creature, “may come boldly unto the throne of grace.” But the Papal priests, servile copyists of the heathen, tyrannize over the souls of men, and claim the right to stand between the penitent sinner and his Saviour. All the blessings which he desires, and so much needs, must come through the good-will and efficacious services of priests. And these, forgetting that he who would serve God acceptably in the ministry of the Gospel, must be “least of all” and “servant of all,” are too often proud, insolent, tyrannical.

Their processions are of heathen origin. The ancient Romans, on set days, paraded, bearing lighted candles and carrying idols dressed in costly clothing. At these solenmities priests were assisted by the magistrates in ceremonial robes. The youth, gaudily dressed, followed, singing songs in honor of the god whose festival they were celebrating. Most slavishly has this custom been copied in Roman Catholic countries. At the festival of the Holy Virgin, or some other Romish saint, the priests, magistrates, and even ladies and mere boys, with lighted wax candles in their hands, form in solemn procession, bearing images, and chanting hymns. A traveler to Rome thus describes the festival of the Annunciation:—“ Processions of penitents are seen silently wending their way along the streets, clothed in long black robes, preceded by a black cross, and bearing in their hands skulls and bones, and contribution-boxes for souls in purgatory. . . . The Pope himself was clothed in robes of white and silver, and as he passed along the crowds of gazing people that lined the streets and filled the windows, he forgot not incessantly to repeat his benediction—a twirl of three fingers, typical of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost—the little finger representing the latter. Many tiresome ceremonies followed his entry into the church. He was seated on his throne; all the Cardinals successively approached— kissed his hand—retired a step or two—gave three low bows—one to him in front, as personifying God the Father, one to the right, intended for the Son, and one to the left for the Holy Ghost.” Most powerfully do such scenes remind us of the pompous ceremonies of ancient Paganism; we seem standing in the midst of some heathen city of the ages past, and witnessing their grotesquely solemn superstitions.

The title of Pontifex Maximus is conspicuously a theft from ancient Rome. All good Papists are stanch advocates of the Pope’s supremacy. They consider him the Vicar of Christ, infallible Head of the Church, fountain of all holiness, source of all spiritual blessings, successor to St. Peter. Admitting that Peter was in Rome, and was bishop of the entire Church—which no Papist has ever yet successfully proved—the fact is yet undeniable that the name, the office, the authority, and the functions of the Pope are precisely the same as those of the chiefest pontiff in Pagan Rome. The worldly pomp and splendor that now surround the Papal court, comporting so poorly with what we know of the poverty, self-denial, and simple manners of the ardent, impetuous Apostle, point unmistakably to the Pontifex Maximus of old Rome. He, like his servile imitators, claimed to be the arbiter of all cases, civil and sacred, human and divine. If loyal Romanists, therefore, would say that the present Pope is the legitimate successor of the lordly pontiff who, even when Christ was a babe in Bethlehem, could claim regular succession from pontiffs dating backwards for centuries, they would tell the truth for once, and might add fresh laurels to their boasted claim of antiquity.

The votive offerings so frequently made in Catholic churches are an imitation of a custom practiced in Rome long prior to the Christian era. Nothing was more common than votive gifts presented to the gods in consequence of vows taken in times of danger, or for some supposed miraculous deliverance. Of this the authors of Greece and Rome make frequent mention. Even this means of fostering superstition did not escape Romish observation. It was early incorporated into the scheme of Popish worship. Around the shrines of the saints are hung, in almost countless number, these votive offerings, “evidences at once of the grossest superstition and of the most servile imitation of Pagan practices. A correspondent of a secular paper, writing recently from Paris, gives an animated description of a scene witnessed in one of the Cathedrals of the French capital on the reception of news by mail from MacMahon’s defeated army. Wives, sisters, lovers, were seen presenting their gifts to Our Lady—thanksgiving offerings for the deliverance of their loved ones; others, hanging up their gifts, knelt and tearfully implored the protection of the Mother of God for the exposed, the wounded, the suffering, the dying. Marble tablets, about eight inches by four, graven with sentiments such as these, “In humble thankfulness for the return of my beloved husband from the war,” “ Honor to Our Lady for her merciful deliverance,” “ In acknowledgment of the prayer Our Lady answered,” covered all the walls and even the pillars ‘overhead, so that the entire church of Our Lady of Victory was literally lined with these records of gratitude. To make the heathen scene complete, there were lighted candles and pictures, officiating priests in gaudy vestments, and a glittering altar loaded with ornaments and votive offerings.

The sacrifice of the mass is a conformity to Paganism as disgusting as it is slavishly accurate. Christians have always believed that Christ’s death is an all-sufficient sacrifice for sin, and has forever done away with the necessity and propriety of any other. “ For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.” Popery, however, like Paganism, dishonors this one perfect sacrifice, by substituting others in its stead. It is indeed true that Papists do not offer the blood of bulls and goats; they offer, however, what is fur less reasonable and more grossly superstitious, A CONSECRATED WAFER, particles of bread, transubstantiated, by the magic words of the priest, into the “actual body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ;” into “his bones, nerves, muscles;” and the wine into “his real blood, which flowed in his veins.” If priest and people really believe what they so repeatedly affirm they believe, then are they among the most degraded of heathen worshipers— offering human flesh on their altars, eating human flesh and drinking human blood. Either, then, human sacrifices are perpetuated, and that, too, in the most shocking, most revolting form, or infallibility errs. Hither the priest creates a god, offers him as a sacrifice for sin, and ends in eating him, or all Papists worship FLOUR AND WATER. There is the dilemma! Romanists, choose which horn you please.

But even heathen, in their wildest vagaries, never clung to customs so repugnant to common sense as many that grow out of the doctrine of transubstantiation. For example, the priest, holding a wafer between his thumb and the forefinger of his right hand, says: “Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world,” which he thrice repeats, then lays one wafer upon the tongue of each communicant. In winter, the wafers are consecrated twice a month, in summer, once a week. Consecration is oftener in summer than in winter, because the host, by the excessive heat, corrupts, producing worms! A god turned to worms!! It is an injunction of Holy Mother, however, that this corrupted host must be eaten. It is still “the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ.” Again: “If in winter the blood be frozen in the cup, put warm cloths about the cup; if that will not do, let it be put into boiling water near the altar, till it be melted, taking care it does not get into the cup.” A god frozen and warmed with bandages or boiling water!! Surely, men have lost their reason! Heathen were never so devoid of common sense. Worse still: “If any of the blood of Christ fall upon the ground by negligence, it must be licked up with the tongue, the place be sufficiently scraped, and the scrapings burned; but the ashes must be buried in holy ground. “If after consecration a gnat or spider, or any such thing, fall into the chalice, let the priest swallow it with the blood, if he can; but if he fear danger, and have a loathing, let him take it out and wash it with wine, and when mass is ended, burn it and cast it and the washing into holy ground. It was solemnly declared by a reverend father, seconded by several friars, that a dog, which had accidentally caught and eaten the falling wafer, should be henceforth called “the sacrament dog ;” that when he died he should be buried in consecrated ground, that he must not be allowed to play with other dogs, and that the woman who owned him must place a silver dog on the tabernacle where the host was deposited, and pay a sum of money to the church, Surely Popery has out-paganized Paganism itself.

Nothing is more evident than that asceticism, which is manifestly opposed to the whole spirit of the Bible, is of Pagan origin. It is a vain attempt to work out salvation by severe self-denial, by withdrawing from the abodes of men and the customary pursuits of life, and undergoing penance with the hope that God is well pleased with those who render miserable the life he gave them. The Eremites of the heathen, especially those of Egypt, the Essenes and the Therapeutae, retiring from the world and all useful occupations, vowing chastity, poverty and obedience, clothing themselves in skins or the coarsest materials, dwelling in caverns, practicing tortures, sometimes even scourging themselves with whips, and passing much of their time in silent contemplation, were accustomed to travel from house to house, with sacks upon their backs, begging bread, wine, and all kinds of victuals for the support of their lazy fraternities. Precisely the same customs prevail even now in India and Siam, handed down from the same source, Egypt, the fruitful parent of so many gloomy misanthropes (people who hate or mistrust humankind). Hordes of mendicant (beggar) priests, claiming superior sanctity, feed on the people, consuming the fruits of honest industry, and returning no equivalent. After these heathen models, Rome’s religious orders of monks and nuns, in their almost endless variety, were unquestionably formed, and that too by the most raving fanatics. These orders have precisely the same vows—chastity, poverty and obedience. They retire into monasteries, nunneries, deserts, or caves, spend their time in filth or useless reverie and idleness; clothe themselves in rags and wretchedness, or in garments powerfully reminding one of their heathen prototypes, and practice severe self-inflicted tortures. So likewise celibacy, so vaunted in the Romish Church, and abstinence from animal food, are among the austerities recommended by Pagans centuries before the Christian era.

That no feature, at least no important feature, of Paganism might be allowed to fall into oblivion, Rome can boast of her sect, the legitimate successors of the Gymnosophists of Egypt, which claims that the perfection of piety consists in an annihilation of every affection implanted in human nature, including even love of one’s parents, which, to any but a heathen, might reasonably be presumed to be innocent. Those voluntarily choosing a hermit life—thus casting slander on the God that made them, and more frequently failing into gross sins than those preferring to remain in society, and there attempt to live worthy of him whose life was spent in labors of love with the multitude— became at one time so numerous in the infallible Church, that in Egypt alone their number was little less than 100,000. In one city, Oxyrinthus, there were 20,000 virgins and 10,000 monks. To find from 7000 to 10,000 lazy monks under the superintendence of one abbot was by no means unusual.

And even the self-whipping, copied from the priests of Isis, Papists have retained. True, the sect of the Flagellantes no longer exists (but flagellation continues in Opus Dei) , but then in the eternal city, during the season of Lent, fleshly discipline is still practiced. Only a short time since, in one of the churches of Rome, after a brief season of prayer, the candles being extinguished, a company of the faithful, for the space of an hour, sacredly devoted themselves to the use of the consecrated whip—either upon their backs or upon the benches. Seneca, referring to this same custom in Pagan Rome, says: “If there be any gods that desire to be worshipped after this manner, they do not deserve to be worshipped at all; since the very worst of tyrants, though they have sometimes torn and tormented people, yet have never commanded men to torture themselves.” And the Emperor Commodus, shrewd old Pagan as he was, being opposed to people wearing unearned laurels, ordered these self whippers “to lash themselves in good earnest, and not feign it merely and impose upon the people.”

Even so trifling a circumstance as kissing the Pope’s toe is borrowed from the heathen Emperor and tyrant, Caligula. When first the pontifical toe of the old pagan was introduced to the public, it aroused a violent storm of indignation, being taken as the greatest possible insult to freedom. Now, however, in Christian Rome, it scarcely ruffles the serenity of even the proudest and most honored Papist. It is the condition of access into the awe-inspiring presence of “Our Lord God the Pope, infallible judge in faith and morals.” And as he is the legitimate successor of the lordly pontiff who was conducted to the castle of Toici, in France, by two kings, one walking on either side of his horse, and holding the bridle rein; and of Gregory VIL, who compelled the Emperor Henry IV. to remain three full days at his palace gate, barefoot and fasting, humbly suing for admittance, it would be too cruel to deny the Holy Father of all Christendom the small honor of having the faithful kiss his jeweled slipper.

Instead of tracing the remaining characteristic features of Romanism back to their heathen origin, we must content ourselves with bringing forward a few authorities substantiating the position that Popery is perpetuated Paganism. The first shall be Dean Waddington. “The copious transfusion of heathen ceremonies into Christian worship, which had taken place before the end of the fourth century, had, to a certain extent, Paganized (if we may so express it) the outward form and aspect of religion, and these ceremonies became more general and more numerous, and, so far as the calamities of the times would permit, more splendid in the age which followed. To console the convert for the loss of his favorite festival, others of a different name, but similar description, were introduced; and the simple and serious occupation of spiritual devotion was beginning to degenerate into a worship of parade and demonstration, or a mere scene of riotous festivity.”

Aringhus, a Roman Catholic writer, acknowledging the conformity between Pagan and Popish rites, explains and defends it as follows :— The Popes found it necessary, in the conversion of the Gentiles, to dissemble and wink at many things and yield to the times, and not to use force against customs which the people are so obstinately fond of, nor to think of extirpating at once everything that had the appearance of profane.”

Dr. Middleton, in his letters from Rome, to which we acknowledge ourselves indebted for many of the above mentioned facts, affirm:— “All their ceremonies appear plainly to have been copied from the rituals of primitive Paganism; as if handed down by an uninterrupted succession from the priests of old, to the priests of new Rome.” After carrying out the comparison to an extent which would be wearisome were it not so deeply interesting, he employs this language :—“ I could easily carry on this parallel, through many more instances of the Pagan and Popish ceremonies, to show from what spring all that superstition flows, which we so justly charge them with, and how vain an attempt it must be to justify by the principles of Christianity a worship formed upon the plan and after the very pattern of pure heathenism.”

Considering the evidence we are able to present of the strikingly accurate conformity of modern Popery to ancient Paganism, who is not ready to believe that if Cicero should rise from his grave in the Campus Martius, and wandering through Rome should enter St. Peter’s, he would certainly imagine that the successors of the old priests, in scarcely a circumstance changed, were, with the same fopperies, which in the times of the Caesars excited the ridicule of the learned, worshipping Diana, or Venus, or Apollo?

If, as we believe has been successfully proved, modern Romanism is only the Paganism of Antechristian times perpetuated, then we may expect to find it bearing a close affinity to Buddhism, the oldest known religion of the Indo-European race. For unless Dwight and Max Maller, and in fact all philologists are incorrect in their oft-repeated declaration that India and Greece and Rome were peopled by kindred tribes, speaking cognate languages and having essentially the same religion, then is modern Popery the same as Buddhism of the present day, barring only the slight changes that have occurred since the separation. And as each prides itself in veneration of the past, in inerrancy and immutability, these may be presumed to he few.

That Romanism is indeed the twin sister of the Buddhist religion none surely can deny. A comparison of the two will force conviction upon even the most incredulous. Antedating Christianity by several centuries, and spreading over all the countries inhabited by what are now known as the Indo-European races, Buddhism has ever had, and now has, precisely those features which mark the Papal Church, consisting partly of maxims of morality and partly of dogmas of faith on subjects transcending the reach of reason, it rests conjointly on the authority of certain sacred books and the decisions of early councils—called, like Rome’s, ecumenical, and blindly venerated. The worshipers of Buddha in Burma, Siam, and the Chinese Empire— numbering more than the adherents of any other religious system known in either ancient or modern times— have their relics and their images, the objects of supreme veneration; their temples costing fabulous sums of money; their saints canonized by ecclesiastical authority; their priests with shaven heads, vowing chastity, poverty and obedience; their wax candles burning night and day; their penances and self-inflicted tortures; their endless traditions, and hair-splitting moral distinctions; and even their confessional. They have also their Lent, when for four or five weeks all the people are supposed to live on vegetables and fruits; their acts of merit, repetition of prayers, fasting, offerings to the images, celibacy, voluntary poverty, enforced devotions, and munificent gifts to temples, monasteries and idols. Even the rosary, a string of beads used in saying prayers, and supposed by Papists to be a device specially revealed to St. Dominic, is part of the sacred machinery of the devout Buddhist. And their monasteries, into which priests retire from the world, and engage in the instruction of the young, especially in the mysteries of their sacred books, almost startle one by their close resemblance to those of Popery. And to see the worshipers of Buddha, each with a rosary in his hand, prostrate themselves before an image and repeat their prayers, whilst priests in gaudy vestments, bowing before lighted candles, mutter their incantations in a language which has long since ceased to be spoken, forces upon even the least reflecting the conviction that though Rome has ever claimed the power of working miracles, she has shown little inventive genius. Not even are shrines and sacred places a monopoly with Rome. There are plenty of them, and pilgrims too, in India. And why not, since they have their preaching friars, spending their time alternatively in sacred oratory and in begging. Nay, even modem miracles, though by no means so numerous, and certainly not so astounding, are performed by Rome’s elder sister. And to complete the picture, they have their infallible pontiff. At Lhassa, as well as at Rome, dwells one whom the faithful make believe cannot err when speaking ea cathedra. With two infallibles, one in Asia and one in Europe, the world certainly ought not to err in faith and morals. And then, like the Romanist and the ancient Egyptian, the learned Buddhist indignantly repels the charge of idolatry, affirming that he only employs idols as a visible image of the invisible Buddha, an aid in spiritual worship. Alike in most things, and antedated only in one, infallibility, Rome is, as yet, ahead in the mad chase after superstition. Buddhism has no indulgences, no purgatory, no living Eucharist, that is, human sacrifices: —Paganism has been outstripped.