Not very long ago a grand exhibition of ecclesiastical ornaments and vestments from churches of the establishment in various parts of the kingdom was held at Norwich. Eucharistic (that is, colored) vestments were contributed by a hundred churches, and it was estimated that there were two hundred and fifty or three hundred other churches in which they were habitually used. The number is probably now larger. Many of these vestments were of extraordinary richness. There were silks and velvets covered with delicate and elaborate embroideries, and bedecked with a literal profusion of diamonds, pearls, and various precious stones. One chasuble, not jeweled, was valued at £220, Or $1,100. There were crosiers, mitres, stoles, and superb crimson copes--all in use at the present day--not to speak of numerous relics of antiquity, even relics of the saints and the twelve apostles, and a fragment of the true cross. The confessional in the Anglican Church is not an innovation by any means; but under the protecting wings of ritualism it is assuming much greater prominence than it has ever enjoyed before. In St. Alban's, New-York, you will not find a confessional box; but you may make a confession there, if you feel so disposed, and the reverend pastor is ready to absolve penitents with the usual formularies. At St. Alban's in London, however, they do things in a much more complete style, with a box and a grating, and all the other Catholic accessories--with the trifling exceptions of sacerdotal character and jurisdiction on the part of the confessor. An Anglican minister of Protestant proclivities, named Ormiston, recently made an experimental visit of investigation to the Rev. Mr. Mackonochie's confessional at St. Alban's, and at a meeting of the National Protestants Institute on the 28th of January last, was cruel enough to tell all that happened there. He went on one of the days set apart for receiving the confessions of men, took his turn with a number of others who were waiting, and in course of time found himself in the confessional box, peering through a hole at the Rev. Mr. Mackonochie, who was vested in a surplice and purple stole. Mr. Ormiston stated that he wished to make a "special" confession, and was thereupon requested to kneel. He could not bring himself to do this, but he made believe do it--probably he squatted--and then proceeded to his unbosoming. The Rev. Mr. Mackonochie must have been rather unpleasantly amazed by what followed. {59} Pulling out a written paper Mr. Ormiston read, in a loud tone so as to be heard by the people outside, this humble confession of sins: "I have but too imperfectly discharged my solemn ordination vow of being ready with all faithful diligence to banish and drive away all erroneous and strange doctrines contrary to God's word,' and _especially the damnable doctrine now maintained by those priests in the Church of England, commonly called 'Puseyites,' together with their popish practices_, whereby they are