Once we attended service in a Catholic chapel where the priest preached in English, and he several times reminded his hearers that in baptism they had "renounced the world and all its pomps." At the same time his pompous dress and style, and sleek, portly appearance contrasted strongly with the squalid appearance of his flock, which was composed of the poorest laborers in the community. "Father O'Conner," in his "Letters to Cardinal McCloskey," speaks on this subject as follows:— On Fifth Avenue in this city, covering the square between Fiftieth and Fifty-first Streets, is a large white marble building known as, "The Cathedral." That building cost more than $5,000,000. A great part of this sum was made up by the sale of whisky, wine, and beer in the building at the great fair and bazaar held there a few years ago. You and your priests dispensed the liquor to the Irish people who freely drank it and paid double price for it, as they were told that the money was for the glory of God in building his house. The more they drank at that fair the more pleased their God was supposed to be. A Christian man in your place would say, "The more Satan was pleased." But with you and your church the end always and everywhere justifies the means. I leave it to any honest man to judge whether Christ or Satan reaped the fruit of that fair. In the day when the eternal books are balanced we shall know how many young maidens and young men were sent on the road to destruction by that great "fair and bazaar." If I add that the city was cheated out of the land on which your cathedral is built, as Dexter A. Hawkins, Esq., an eminent lawyer of this city, proves in his pamphlet, it may well be asked, how can you have the effrontery to call it the house of God? If the Saviour of the world were to come on earth again, would he enter there and set his seal upon the building as his temple? I passed by your cathedral the other day and observed that you are building a magnificent residence—a palace you call it, on the east side of the square fronting on Madison Avenue. It is not quite as fine a mansion as that of A. T. Stewart or William H. Vanderbilt, but it will be one of the notable buildings in New York when completed in a style commensurate with the elegance in which you live. Whatever may be said of the pretensions of your church to possess the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, no one will deny that you possess the keys of the treasures of the earth and the enjoyment of the good things of this world. When I was a youth in Ireland, I heard my esteemed parish priest and relative, Rev. T. Enright of Causeway, County Kerry, say that it was generally believed, though it was not an article of faith, that popes, cardinals, bishops, and priests, would occupy higher places in Heaven than the laity. The good, pious man and his congregation firmly believed it, as I did also, until I had been a member of the priesthood some years; but as I mingled with the bishops and clergy in this country, and observed their manner of life, my faith in their claim to a high place in Heaven was somewhat shaken. I saw, however, that you were bound to have as good a time on earth as grand palaces, costly furniture, fine carriages, and goodly raiment can afford. The people are told that all this is necessary to uphold your state and to preserve the dignity of your high calling as men of God and ministers of Christ. You do not pretend that you derive any authority for the use of these luxuries from the sacred Scriptures, however strained, or that you were taught how to enjoy them when you sat at the feet of your teachers in the seminary. But being in the world you tell the people that you have to be all things to all men that you may gain as many followers as possible. This you learned from your master in Rome, and your promotion from priest to bishop and cardinal has followed your compliance with his teaching. Though the people, the poor working people of every land, have to pay for these luxuries, it is not to please them that you indulge in them. Apart from the personal gratification you derive from them, you use them as decoys to attract the worldly-minded and the wealthy by displaying your power and grandeur as princes and rulers of the people. During a visit to Northfield, Mass., I met a Christian man, an ex-Judge of the Circuit Court of one of the districts in Illinois, who years ago had been a very active politician and a leader in the councils of the Democratic party. In conversation with him I learned many things concerning the intimate relations of your church with political parties and the powers of this world. He told me candidly that he was first attracted to an alliance with the Roman Catholic Church by the display of power and permanency that she was everywhere making in America. There was something solid in the fine churches and institutions that were springing up in every city and town of the Union, which were owned by the bishops alone. Protestant churches were being planted, too, but they were owned by the Christian citizens of each town, who could convert them into any use they pleased. But the people in the Roman Catholic Church had no control over the property they paid for. If not obedient to priest and bishop in all things, they could be excluded from the buildings they had erected. Where such power existed and was enforced, there must be strength and stability. So this politician and man of the world at that time judged, and with this knowledge he went into the councils of his party, and advised them, in all cases where they sought an alliance with Roman Catholic voters, to deal directly with the rulers of that church. For many years he was the principal man in the secret committee appointed to treat with the bishop and priests in the great city where he dwells. The people were ignorant of this wire-pulling, but they obeyed their bishop and local pastors in what was commanded them, because they knew that though their votes would benefit a certain political party, their church would be exalted and her power increased, and that in some way or other they would be partakers of its grandeur.