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another public enemy of the Church. “C.” may not attach much im. portance to these theories of cause and effect,—as theories. But he will not deny, that they are at least significant, as indicating the public opinion of that world where the Pope is acknowledged in possession of all the rights of sovereignty. Let him assure himself, that the enemies of Catholicity are perhaps the most impressed with the value of that kind of public opinion. Otherwise, why did the late king of Prussia, after refusing the ultimatum tendered by His Holiness with respect to the affairs of Posen and Cologne, suddenly accept it? It was true that, in return for this concession, he obtained the suppression of a rescript that was to have been addressed to his Catholic subjects. But, if they had wholly lost the sense of their spiritual relations towards their Church in temporal matters, he would not have trembled, as he did, for the security of their temporal allegiance.

We are therefore by no means disposed to adopt “C.’s” views, as to the consequences which have ensued upon the Allocution of July 1842. Nevertheless, we candidly confess that, so far as they concern British and Irish Catholics, we go very far with them. It is indeed lamentable to see the political apathy which prevails amongst us. We have frequently, but hitherto in vain, endeavoured to arouse our Catholic countrymen to the same admirable sense of duty, in respect to public affairs, which is the ornament of their domestic circles. It is indeed a most criminal neglect, and well deserving the indignant reproaches which “C.” heaps upon them, in common with their Protestant countrymen, who are not in this respect worse than themselves. It may even be fairly contended that we are the worst culprits. Unto whom much is given, from him much will be required !

We are far from treating it as any excuse for the degradation of which we speak, that “we have been unconsciously acted on by the tainted atmosphere” around us. That such is the fact, we make no doubt whatever. It is an evil fate, which has, for so many generations, doomed us to inhabit in the midst of a Protestant society. Very much of what the reviewer says of the Anglicans, under the baneful influence of the Puritan doctrines of public morals which obtained in the seventeenth century, is, with a slight alteration of the names, directly applicable to ourselves, now suffering from the contact, not only of these two sects, but of all. (p. 213.)

“It is an instance of the sacrifice of principle to diffioulty, which we misname the policy of expediency; such as occurs invariably in times when faction has extinguished rectitude, of which the authors know not, and in general care not, where it is at last to end ;-but of which all history and reason testifies, that its origin is corruption, and its end is ruin. And this it would not be easy to exemplify, so well as by the history of the results in this very instance. The notion was, to satisfy an enemy, by abstaining from the exercise of functions which were disliked only because, while they asserted power, they tended, by their usefulness, to strengthen influence. And now, when, by this dereliction, the descendants of those Churchmen, [Catholics], have found their influence vanished, as the consequence of their decayed utility, the descendants of those Puritans, [Protestants), assail them from that vantage ground, and call for the legal abolition of their remaining power, on the clear ground that it is oppressive,-as all power must be, that is no longer useful! Now, 'cut it down! why cumbereth it the ground p?”

FEAST OF ALL SAINTS.

Paris MissAL.

SPOUSE of Christ, Church militant

Throughout the universe,
Bring forth thy songs, of saints above

The triumphs to rehearse.

This day is dedicate to all,

Fraught with celestial joy;
Let sounds of solemn melody

The gladsome hours employ.

The Motber join'd unto the Son,

Leads on the laurell'd train ;
She who alone her virgin grace

Through childbirth did retain.

Her follow the angelic bands,

Those spirits minist'ring,
Who to the Maker of the stars

Unending praises sing.

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AN EXTRACT FROM THE UNPUBLISHED DIARY

OF A PILGRIM.

“Bring flowers to the place where I kneel in prayer;

They are nature's offering, their place is there." —Hemans. FLORENCE is sometimes designated by its admirers “The Flower of Cities;" and, as its name imports, it may peradventure be as appropriately called “The City of Flowers." In fact, the first greeting the stranger usually meets with in the capital of Tuscany, is from a contadina presenting a bouquet of flowers. To the disappointed or worldsick traveller, this custom is not without its moral, for it may be truly said that

“ Flowers are the symbols of life;

Sweet to the sense, these fair
But fading things,
Flowers though they seem,
Are human hopes and joys,
Shook by some strong convulsion

From the heart." What an admirable essay might be written relative to the harmonies of nature and of art, combined under the ennobling influence of religion! This question to me has often occurred, and nowhere more forcibly than on the florid banks of Arno. Here it may be not irrelevant or vain to state that this idea was exquisitely developed by a lady I once had the pleasure of meeting at the table and in the gardens of the ex_queen

of
song

Need I add that our celebrated hostess corroborated the opinion, of which, whether as an artist or a floriculturist, she was fully competent to judge? Of her taste in both respects, no traveller surely can for a moment doubt, if he has had the advantage of visiting Madame Catalani in the retirement of her charming villa between Fiesole and Florence. But let me say no more of this pleasing reminiscence, or I shall wander from my subject. In the most populous thoroughfare of the last-named city, one may deambulate amid the fragrance of lilies, roses, and violets ; and from the fascinating importunities of their graceful vendors, he may turn his eyes to the numerous statues which adorn the Piazza del Gran Duca. In this

there is, indeed, much to rivet the attention. The superb fountain, with Neptube and his attendant tritons, wrought in bronze by Ammanato,—the sublime and colossal David by Michael Angelo,the equestrian statue of Cosmo,--the Perseus in bronze, and the Sabine group in marble, by Giovanni di Bologna, are masterpieces, which the statuary and the artist stop again and again to admire. The evening after my arrival, the power of the beautiful in these exquisite productions of human genius was not sufficient to detain me long from my first object, which was to visit the Florentine Cathedral,—the church of Santa Maria de' Fiori. This ancient and magnificent, though still unfinished temple, is dedicated to God, under the patronage of our “Lady of Flowers." On my entering by the western portal, the dying strains of a full-voiced choir, with the last loud swell of the organ, fell upon the ear, and admonished me that the solemn benediction had just terminated. However, I reached the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament before the burning tapers were extinguished, and had time to admire the symmetrical order and floral taste wherewith sanctuaries and altars are decorated in Italy. Ere retiring, I forgot not to make a short but fervent prayer, which before the throne of the Lamb, I trust, ascended, like the grateful odour of incense, or of the flowers on which I knelt, for the very pavement of the church was carpeted with flowers. At length, the tolling of the Ave Maria bell reminded me that the beauties of nature and art, which had been made subservient to the godly festival of the just expiring day, were almost concealed beneath the sable veil of night. Still the dim religious obscurity whereby I was surrounded, did not wholly cloud either the pleasing impressions of memory, or the flowery dreams of imagination; and I finally returned homewards, repeating :

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“ Flowers ! sweet flowers ! that breathe of Heaven,

The fairest gifts that earth hath given ;
My heart was bowed ’neath a weight of care,
Till your voices came on the summer air;

Low soft voices of delight
Whisperd words of comfort breathing,

Telling of a world of light,
Where sweet spirits flowers are wreathing."

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