188 THE HYACINTH. 



True, so far as regards the open violence that 

 could take away a man's life, under the sanctions 

 of civil and ecclesiastical law : but do you believe 

 that the spirit of popery is, in our day, one whit 

 changed from what it was, when Smithfield kin- 

 dled her faggots, to send the souls of God's people 

 in fiery chariots to heaven ? No ! it is the deep 

 device of the papacy to wrap its thunders in a 

 cloud that none can penetrate — watching for a 

 season that, by the infinite mercy of God, is yet 

 retarded, when they may again be hurled, with 

 blighting fury, upon the land that shall lie expos- 

 ed to their bolts. 



I have been marvelling at the rapid change 

 wrought since I placed that root in the glass ; a 

 shapeless, unpromising thing, now arrayed in re- 

 splendent loveliness, rewarding a thousand-fold 

 the care bestowed upon its culture. I can find a 

 parallel most touchingly true ; and I will narrate 

 the story, with the strictest adherence to simple, 

 unadorned fact : not disguising time, or place. 

 May the tale sink deep into the hearts of my rea- 

 ders ! 



It is pretty generally known that, in the year 

 1830, through the blessing of God on the efforts 

 of a few Christian friends, a chapel was opened at 

 Seven Dials, in London, where the Liturgy of our 

 Church is used, and the pure gospel is preached 

 in the Irish language. Such an assault upon the 



