HOME SCENES IN NEW ENGLAND.
CHAPTER I.
MY AUNT AND THE CATECHISM.
"There sister! I told you what would come of letting that dear child hear little Mary Ann recite the Romanist catechism. Here we have our little Kitty setting herself up as a judge in matters of religion, and quoting the answers she has learned by hearing them repeated! Not but that she is as good a child as her auntie or her mother could desire; but her brain is too thoroughly American, too much given to going to the bottom of any subject it is once interested in, to stop half-way in a matter of this kind. I knew all the time how it would end."
Here my maiden aunt paused, more in sorrow than in anger, and little Kitty remarked playfully,
"If truth lies at the bottom of a well, as you once told me, auntie, how could we ever reach it without going to the bottom?" While Kitty's mother replied to her sister in a half-apologizing manner,
"Why, Laura, I consented to let her hear Mary Ann's catechism, simply because Kitty told me that the poor mother was so much occupied in striving to earn a living for her little fatherless ones that she could not hear it herself; and then the priest was expected to come here soon, to prepare the children for confirmation, which is to be given shortly by the bishop. So there was no time to lose. I certainly did not think there could be any danger in a mere act of kindness."
"Danger!" exclaimed grandmamma, in defence of her little pet. "If there's danger in a little knowledge of the Catholic catechism, it must be because our house is built on a sandy foundation, and hence we fear it will be destroyed by a little outside religious information. For my part, I have no objection to full examination in these matters; nor have I any fear for the result."
A long-drawn sigh and an ejaculation of grief from the corner of the room called our attention to where grandmamma's sister—"Aunt Ruby," the widow of a Congregational minister—sat knitting, removed from the light of the evening lamps because of the weakness of her eyes.
"O sister! sister! how can you talk so. The old adversary goeth about everywhere like a roaring lion. He lies hid even in that dish of meal. If he can only get our folks to questioning and examining, then the mischief is done; and we shall have popish priests coming here, carrying on their crossings and their blessings, offering to sell pardons for our sins, and making us all bow the knee to Baal, and pray to their graven images. I shudder to think of it!"
"They do not pray to graven images, Aunt Ruby; the catechism expressly forbids it!" replied Kitty.
"There comes that old catechism again!" exclaimed Aunt Laura. "If Mary Ann's catechism forbids it, then the book was trumped up to deceive American children, and is entirely different from the catechisms used in Ireland or France."
"As for that, auntie, Mary Ann's mother has one she brought from Ireland many years ago, and it teaches just the same things. But there is one thing in both that you will acknowledge as binding—'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor;' and the catechism explains that it forbids 'all false testimonies, rash judgments, and lies.' It seems to me that good people should be careful not to accuse the Catholic Church—"
"Romanist, if you please!"
"Well, the Roman Catholic Church, of things they do not know to be true; and I see no harm in inquiring what is true, and what false, in all that is brought against it. Here is our neighbor across the road, a pious Methodist, will not let her little girl, who was my best friend, play with me any more, because I said I thought lies about Catholics were just as bad as lies about Methodists. But I shall always think so, if I lose the friendship of every body."
A sigh and a groan were heard from the dark corner, and a voice, "O poor child! the poison is beginning to work, and there's no knowing where it will end. If things are to go on in this way, it is just as likely as any thing in the world that we shall have the Pope of Rome and all his cardinals down among us before we know it, letting folks out of purgatory, selling indulgences to commit sin, and doing so many other awful things!"
"Ha! ha!" laughed Kitty's father, who had just come in. "Never mind, Aunt Ruby, the pope will never take you, so you need not stand in fear of him. You are too much in the dark, and I fear never could bear the light sufficiently to become one of the children of holy church."
Kitty's eldest brother, who had been educated in a Catholic college, had come in with his father, and now whispered slyly to grandmamma,
"I don't know about that; I have great hopes for Aunt Ruby yet. When she left the Episcopal Church, and was propounded for admission into the Congregational, before she married the minister, you remember how the old deacons groaned in spirit over her because they could not get her to say she was 'willing to be damned.'[34] They insisted that the 'old carnal heart' was still too strong in her, and they protested with one voice that it would never do for their minister to marry a woman who was not 'willing to be damned.' Perhaps the dear old lady remains yet of the same mind. If so, she may escape, after all."
CHAPTER II.
WHAT OUR NEIGHBORS THOUGHT OF IT.
"So you have all heard of this affair! Then I suppose it must be true. Well, for my part, I never could have thought it possible here in New England, and in the light of this nineteenth century!" exclaimed a grave-looking, elderly lady, who sat in the centre of a group of women who had met together to spend the afternoon in chatting and knitting. "I never could have believed that a woman so well-informed and so good as Mrs. S—— would allow her child to be ensnared and deceived by these wicked papists. I was perfectly astonished when I heard of it."
"And so was I," rejoined another and younger individual of the group. "I called to inquire of Mrs. S—— herself, to ask if the report was true. She said it was true; and, what do you think? she even went so far as to say that she hoped her Kitty would never read a worse book than that awful Romanist catechism! What is to become of us when good people and professing Christians talk in this way? I am afraid the poor woman is in great danger herself."
"Of course she is," said another; "but if she has a craving for error herself, she has no right to expose her child to the influence of it. I am told she openly maintains, and in Kitty's presence too, that good works are necessary to salvation, and even dares to talk about penance and all those popish abominations. Only the other day, Kitty told me she thought lies about Catholics were just as bad as lies about Methodists. I informed the young lady that I should have no more visiting between her and my daughter. I was sorry to grieve poor Kitty, she is such a good little girl; but I could not have the mind of my child poisoned by such dangerous doctrines."
A little woman, whose knitting-needles had been clicking with marvellous rapidity and energy, and whose countenance had indicated the most earnest attention and interest during this colloquy, here ventured to remark that she thought Kitty's opinion was very just, and she would really like to know what there was so very dangerous in the Catholic catechism. She had become acquainted with many Catholics while visiting her friends in Canada, and they seemed to be as good people as there are anywhere. She wished she could be informed as to the particular and alarming errors taught by this church.
All voices were raised at once in expressions of surprise at such astounding ignorance. "Is it possible there is any one who does not know that the Roman church is a mass of errors, corruptions, superstitious mummeries and idolatries? that Romanists pray to saints and graven images instead of praying to God? that the priests keep the people in darkness and ignorance in order to domineer over them at their pleasure. Errors, to be sure!"
The minute individual whose remarks had raised this storm of indignation, here interposed by saying emphatically, "I confess I do not know much about this church, except that in this country it is everywhere denounced in the strongest terms. But it is not necessarily as bad as its enemies represent it to be, any more than the primitive church was. I do not dare to condemn any body of Christians—"
"Christians!" interrupted an old lady with more acid than honey in her aspect and manner; "Christians!" with an unmistakable sneer.
"Yes, Christians!" resumed the other; "for I am told they believe in our Lord Jesus Christ; and, as I was saying, I would not dare to condemn them without knowing from themselves, instead of their enemies, what their doctrines are."
The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of Kitty's mother, who was received with a cold reserve that revealed to her at once what the subject of their discussion had been. Being of a frank and fearless disposition, and possessing much of that American candor of soul which insists on fair play in every contest, she opened the subject without hesitation, by saying,
"I have been informed, ladies, that my neighbors are greatly alarmed because I allowed my little girl to hear a Catholic child recite the catechism. I have examined the little book carefully, and cannot find any thing in it to justify such fears. I am not at all afraid it will hurt my child."
A solemn silence followed this declaration, when an excited individual inquired with much vehemence, "What does it say about priests pardoning sins, about praying to saints, and praying souls out of purgatory?"
"As to the power of the priests to pardon sins, it merely repeats the words of our Lord, 'Whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven;' and I confess I never before noticed how very clear and decisive they were, especially when he added, 'And lo! I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.' As to praying to saints, it asserts that the saints in glory pray to God for us, and help us by their prayers, and that the souls in purgatory are assisted by our prayers for them."
"There's no such place as purgatory!" indignantly exclaimed an old lady. "I don't believe a word of it."
"Unfortunately for you, my dear friend," replied Kitty's mother, "your believing or disbelieving does not make the least difference in this matter. If there is a purgatory, as was always held by the Jewish church and has been by many Protestants, your opinion will not change the fact or abolish the institution. I really think the Catholic doctrine, that the church triumphant prays for the church militant, (for what is the true Christian but a soldier of Christ engaged in a life-long conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil?) and that the church militant supplicates the mercy of God on behalf of the church suffering, is a beautiful and a consoling one. It is a golden chain that binds the souls of the redeemed in holy communion with each other. The grave that has closed over the precious form of a dear friend no longer places an inseparable barrier between us and the departed soul, but serves rather to bring us into closer and more tender sympathy with it. Whether true or not, I think it is a beautiful idea."
"And so do I," added the energetic little knitter; "and I would like to know more about this doctrine."
The gentleman of the house, an able lawyer of the place, who had entered during this conversation, here declared his intention of procuring from the priest on his next visit some books explaining Catholic doctrines.
"For," he remarked, "it certainly is not just to hear all the accusing party has to say, and then refuse to listen to the defence."
Countenances expressive of indignation and alarm, with sighs and groans from most of the party, were the only remonstrances offered to this bold proposition.
CHAPTER III.
THE OPINION OF THE SEWING-CIRCLE.
"I am sure I don't know what will happen next in our village! What would have been said thirty years ago of such outrageous performances?"
These were the words that greeted my ears as I entered the sewing society at Mrs. B——'s, on a fine afternoon in August, 18—. The speaker, who was an energetic middle-aged lady, continued, "First there was the S—— family, with their Romish catechism and their inquiring into forbidden things, all going on the broad road to destruction as rapidly as possible, with ever so many more fascinated and entangled in the same net; and now here Mr. W—— and his whole family have fairly rushed through the gate and joined those children of perdition, the Romanists. It is too bad; too much for human patience!"
"Nothing more than might be expected of those Episcopalians!" exclaimed a prim-looking young lady. "It is but a step from their church to Rome. I am not at all surprised."
"I am not so sure of that," remarked Mrs. J——. "I suspect the Episcopalians differ just as much from the Romanists, after all, as the Congregationalists or any other Protestant sect. They are Protestants, you know, as well as we. You remember Miss E——, who was the principal of our female seminary for some time, a lady of remarkable intelligence and rare culture, and a very dear friend of mine in Massachusetts, before she came here. She was always a devoted Congregationalist from the time she first experienced religion; but she has lately become, I am sorry to say, a Romanist; and, what is still worse, she is about to join their Sisters of Charity! I received from her, not long ago, a letter explaining her reasons, and speaking of what she calls our 'misapprehensions of Catholic doctrine.' She says she has not laid aside any part of her former belief; but has only made such additions as complete the system, and render portions which before were dubious, discordant, and perplexing fragments the clear, harmonious, distinct, and necessary members of a perfect whole. I assure you she has more to say for herself than you would believe possible, and she knows how to say it, too, in a most impressive manner. She told me, also, of many others of our persuasion who will probably join the Catholic Church. So the Episcopalians are not alone, you see, in this movement."
"True," said Mrs. G——; "for there is Mrs. H—— and her daughter, who were leading Methodists. They have joined this popish rabble, and are so very happy in their new home that it is past belief, and quite amusing to people of common sense. I don't believe it makes any difference what body of Protestant Christians folks belong to; if they once get to pondering on these things, they are almost sure to follow their noses into the Roman Church before they stop. When the mind gets fairly waked up, it does not seem possible to quiet it in any other way. And then, as you say, they are all so perfectly contented and joyous when they have once entered the 'fold,' as they call it, that it is a puzzle to sober-minded Christians! I think this new priest who has lately come among us is doing immense mischief already."
"Of course he is!" chimed in another lady with much asperity. "He is so very agreeable and polite, so gentle and easy to get acquainted with, that every one is attracted by him. Then he is an American, and knows so much better how to make himself acceptable to our people than the other one did, that he is a great deal more dangerous on that account. My son George, who would not speak to Kitty S——, Jennie H——, and the W——s, you know, after they began to patronize Romanism—though he thought every thing of them before—is already quite at home with this new priest; takes long walks with him, and even went to the church last Sunday, just to see how they get on over there."
"Oh! yes, he told me all about it," said Miss Mary B——. He said it was perfectly astonishing to see Mr. W—— singing and chanting with those shabby Canadians; and there were the W——s, the H——s, and the S——s, kneeling right in the midst of that rabble, and to all appearance as intent on their prayers, and as much absorbed in what was going on, as any one present. They seemed quite at home, and to understand every thing as well as if they had been accustomed to it all their lifetime. George said he placed himself where they couldn't help seeing him; but they were not disconcerted in the least. Even the girls never seemed to notice him at all. He said they doubtless understood the service, but he didn't. I think, Mrs. G——, that it will not be very safe for George to go there often; for he told me that there was a wonderful solemnity and fascination about the place—which is not much better than a mere shanty—and about the service, though he didn't understand a word of it. He never felt so solemn in all his life, he said; and that was a great deal for such a scatterbrain as George to say."
"I have heard others older and wiser than he say the same," remarked a thoughtful-looking widow with a sigh. "My brother, who is a deacon, and a man of very cool temperament and calm judgment, says he never was in a Catholic place of worship but once, and then he was almost frightened at the sensation of awe that came over him. He said it seemed to him that the impression it made was what one would naturally expect if their doctrine of the real presence were true, and the sight of the solemn assurance which a great many apparently devout and good people evidently possessed of their near approach to their Redeemer, really present in that place, affected him so sensibly that he could not shake the feeling off. It was a very plain little chapel, by no means equal to our churches; but he said it seemed as if something whispered to him that he was standing on holy ground. He has been very painfully exercised about these matters ever since, and he says that the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel, which never troubled him before, now appears to be all in favor of their doctrine."
"For my part, I don't see why Protestants want to go near them at all!" exclaimed another indignantly. "It only brings about mischief; and the only way to put down such things is to set our faces resolutely against every one that countenances any thing pertaining to Romanism. We must be determined that we will have nothing to do with such people in any way. We must keep entirely aloof from Romanists and from Romanizers."
"Well, I confess that I am very much puzzled about all these matters," quietly observed a lady of very gentle manners, in a low voice. "I cannot help having misgivings that a system which carries into its minutest circumstances and details such almost irresistible power may perhaps, after all, owe it to the force of truth. It is certainly sustained and animated by some principle not possessed or exerted by Protestantism in any of its branches."
"It is a principle of evil, then," cried the former austere speaker. "The Prince of Darkness knows how to appear as an 'angel of light'!"
"Ah!" resumed the other; "but you know our Lord said, 'If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more those of his household!' We ought to be careful how we bring such accusations against a church which certainly numbers some very good people among its members. One thing may be said of it, that the poor are tenderly cherished and cared for within its pale; and I can never believe that the evil one is the dispenser or instigator of so many charities as are instituted and supported by this church."
"All done for effect, and to lead poor Protestants astray! Take care, my dear friend; for these misgivings are the beginning of danger, and if you follow them, they will surely lead you into the Romish Church. That is the way all those who have lost the light of Protestantism have been ensnared."
"If it should prove that they gave up an ignis fatuus for the light of the star that guided the wise men of old to the crib of the Infant Redeemer, did they not do well rather than ill?" suggested the quiet speaker, and was answered only by a murmur of indignation at her bold conjecture, as the party withdrew to another room where the tea-table was spread for their refreshment.
CHAPTER IV.
WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DONATION-PARTY.
"Did you go to the donation party at our minister's last night, sister C——? I was so sorry that I couldn't go! My little girl had such a bad cold, I did not dare to leave her."
"Yes, I was there; and, don't you think! Mrs. H—— was there too, with her daughter. Would you have believed she would dare to show her face among the Methodists, after what has happened?"
"No, indeed, I should not! But wonders will never cease. How did she appear?"
"As pleasant and gentle as ever; and just as much at home as if she had never left us to join the Catholics. Sister J—— would not speak to her at first, or look at her; and our good old brother L——, who used to be her class-leader, you know, quite turned the cold shoulder upon her; but she was not to be put off so easily; and after a little while, her kind and winning ways had thawed all the ice, and we couldn't help being pleasant with her."
"Well, I always did love sister H——; hence I don't want to meet her now. I am glad I was not there! Did any one speak to her about her change?"
"Yes; brother L—— could not help telling her how sorry we were to lose her; and she said, 'You have not lost me, brother L——; I shall never forget my dear Methodist friends, and shall never cease to love and pray for them!' 'Pray for them!' brother L—— said with great contempt; 'we don't thank people for praying to the saints for us; we can pray to God for ourselves. Ah Sister H——! if you would only pray to him as you used to, when you were a warm-hearted Methodist, that would do!' Her answer to this was what puzzled me. I remember every word of it, she looked so grieved, and so sweetly earnest, while the tears fairly came to her eyes as she said, 'Pray to God as I used to, Brother L——! Why, I never knew the meaning of the word prayer until I was a Catholic! I then entered the very atmosphere of prayer! My life, my breath, my every thought, my every action, became one continual prayer to an ever-present God from that hour. The saints united with me, assisted me—at my request prayed for me—and for those for whom I desired their prayers in union with my own; and of that perfect union and communion with them, I can give you no idea. O brother L——! believe me, there is no home for a 'warm-hearted Methodist' but the Catholic Church! Don't you remember, in our class conferences, how I used to say I was happy, but not satisfied; I felt that I was still a seeker. I had been first a Congregationalist, then an Episcopalian, and at last a Methodist; but had not found all I was seeking for. You thought I never would until I reached heaven; but'—and how I wish, dear friend, you could have seen and heard her as she said it, for I cannot describe her impressive manner—'but brother, I have found it all in the Catholic Church! The blank is filled. The yearning of my soul is satisfied so entirely that there is nothing left to desire!'
"'All a delusion, sister H——!' exclaimed brother L——. 'You'll wake up some time and find it so, and then you'll come back!' She looked perfectly dismayed at the very thought, as she replied, 'Come back to what? To content myself with the shadow, when I have possessed the substance? to satisfy my hunger with the husks of the stranger, when I have feasted at the continual and overflowing banquet of my Father's table! O my Methodist friends! if you could but taste for once the sweetness and fulness of that banquet, you would never cast one backward look upon what you had left, except to mourn for those who remain contented there, when they might be feasting on the bread of angels!' I confess to you, Mrs. M——, that I could not help being moved by her earnestness to wish that I was even as she is! No one can doubt her entire sincerity who listens to her. Brother L—— asked her if it could be possible that she believed all the absurdities taught by the Romish Church? She replied that she believed no absurdities, and that he had not the slightest idea as to what the Catholic Church really did teach; a tissue of absurdities had been invented by its enemies, and palmed off upon the too credulous Protestants as its teachings, when they were entirely foreign to it, and baseless misrepresentations. 'But,' she added, 'I believe all that my church really does offer to my belief, as firmly as I believe that there is a sun in the firmament of heaven!'"
"Well, how strange it all is, to be sure! Now, I met Mrs. L—— the other day, and I was so provoked at the way they are going on, that I could not for my life help asking her why, in the name of common sense, if they wanted to be Romanists, they didn't all go together like sensible people, and not string along, one to-day, another to-morrow, and so on, as they do? And what do you think was her reply? 'Why, you know, Mrs. M——,' she said; 'that we read of the olden time that, "The Lord added daily unto the church of such as should be saved"!' There is one thing, as you say, that cannot be doubted or denied: right or wrong, they are solemnly in earnest, and heartily sincere. You know little Kitty S—— had a terrible fit of sickness before they became Catholics, (some think her sickness hastened that event,) and has been a great sufferer ever since. Sister W—— has taken care of her through it all, and I should not wonder if she should go off on the same road. She is all taken up with it now, and justifies their course; says all the evils we have been accustomed to hear of the Catholic religion are slanders, and that if the S——s, and especially little Kitty, are not Christians of the true stamp, she does not rightly understand the gospel of Christ."
CHAPTER V.
REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST.
After an absence of over twenty years, we returned to the pleasant village in New England which had formerly exercised over us the charm that pertains to the magic name of HOME.
Seeking out one of the few old neighbors who were left, on the morning after our arrival, I was met with the surprised and joyful exclamation,
"Why, my dear Mrs. J——! can it be possible that this is your own self? I had no hopes of ever seeing you again in this world."
"It is indeed myself," I replied. "We have long been wanderers by 'field and flood;' but have at length returned to remain a short time among the scenes of other years. If you are at leisure, I want to settle down into my own cosy corner of the dear old sitting-room, just as if I had never been away, and ask you as many questions about village affairs and those of the olden time as you will want to answer."
"You could not furnish me with a greater pleasure, I assure you! But O my friend! what changes have taken place since you left! Very few of those who were with us then still remain. Many have died, some have gone 'West,' and some have found their way to San Francisco and other parts of California."
"Where are the W——s?" I inquired.
"They removed to another place some years ago, and their family is widely scattered; but they remain united in spirit, and steadfast in the faith."
"And the S——s?"
"Only three of them are living. One has gone to the far West, and the others have left this place. Little Kitty, after years of patient suffering, during which she never ceased to thank God for having permitted her to find in the holy Catholic Church 'the path over which so many saints and martyrs have passed to heaven'—as she expressed it—at length meekly and joyfully resigned her youthful spirit to her Maker; leaving the light of a beautiful example to shine around the lonely home, and console the bereaved family. Her grandmother, who embraced the faith soon after her granddaughter made profession of it, followed her to the other world in a few months, consoled by all the rites of the church, in which, though she entered its blessed inclosure late in life, she had in a 'short space,' by her good words and works, acquired the merit of many years. Then 'Aunt Laura' and Kitty's younger sister joined them, 'rejoicing in hope.' 'Aunt Ruby' survived them some years, and was often heard to wish, with a sigh, that she could be sure she was as well prepared to leave the world as her Catholic sister; but she never had the courage to brave the ill-opinion of her own little world of Congregationalism—over the modern innovations and delinquencies of which she never ceased to mourn—by following that sister into the only 'ark of safety.'"
"Ah!" I exclaimed; "how many changes indeed. Then I shall never see those dear friends whom I had so fondly hoped to meet again. And where is Mrs. L——, our energetic little knitter, who was so true to every impulse of divine grace and truth?"
"She has long slept in the village cemetery. 'Faithful unto death!' might well have been the inscription upon her grave. She passed through severe and bitter trials, and was made to feel that there are tortures as cruel as those of the rack or wheel, to a sensitive spirit, in the cold contempt and neglect of those who should have been her protectors, as they were her only earthly support. But she never wavered for a moment in her firm trust, or ceased to rejoice that she had been called to the profession of the true faith, which abundantly sustained her under all her griefs and sufferings."
"And dear, gentle Mrs. N——? I felt sure she would forsake the ignis fatuus of Protestantism at last for 'the light of the star that guided the wise men' of old, though she was so long in making up her mind."
"She did so; and died rejoicing in its light, by the crib of Bethlehem!"
"Do Mrs. H—— and her daughter still live?"
"The daughter died some years ago, and was laid near little Kitty S——, whom she tenderly loved, and regarded as the chief instrument of her conversion. Her mother has removed to some distance; but is as fervently thankful to-day for the great gift of faith as she was on that memorable one when she first accepted it, and turned from old and dear associations to find the 'only home for the warm-hearted Methodist,' in the bosom of the Catholic Church."
"I heard, soon after I left, that the G——s became Catholics. Was it true?"
"Yes; and very faithful and fervent children of the church they were; illustrating the beauty of Catholic truths by the shining virtues of their lives. But, alas! of the whole family—father, mother, and five children—but one survives. They departed followed by the prayers and benedictions of the whole Catholic congregation, to whose service they had devoted their best efforts."
"Then there were the B——s, the K——s, and the C——s, who were deeply interested in Catholic truths when I left. Did they follow out their convictions?"
"No; they were 'almost persuaded' to cast in their lot with the happy band of converts; but the storm of obloquy and reproach which soon gathered around the devoted company—without in the least disturbing their peace—so appalled those outside, that they did not dare to follow the inspiration, or ever again to seek its aid. Some became Spiritualists, some Second Adventists, and those who remain nominally as they were before, have fallen into hopeless indifference to all religion, and intense worldliness; seeking in petty ambitions and trifling pursuits the comfort they are no longer able to find in the bosom of any sect. The glimmering of Catholic light which they accepted had served only to reveal to them the utter emptiness of Protestantism, when they steadfastly closed their eyes to any further illumination. While life remains there is hope; but such cases as these seem as nearly hopeless as any in this world can be."
We visited the cemetery, where reposed the mortal remains of so many friends who had been the theme of our conversation; and I found familiar names more numerous there than were familiar faces among the living. We also sought together the spacious church which had been erected during my absence, and which is a beautiful and enduring evidence of the active zeal of a congregation which is richer in holy memories, and in faith, hope, and charity, than in the goods of this world.
SONNET.
TO ITALY.
All-radiant region! would that thou wert free!
Free 'mid thine Alpine realm of cloud and pine,
Free 'mid the rich vales of thine Apennine,
Free to the Adrian and the Tyrrhene Sea!
God with a two-fold freedom franchise thee!
Freedom from alien bonds, so often thine,
Freedom from Gentile hopes—death-fires that shine
O'er the foul grave of pagan liberty,
With pagan empire side by side interred;
Then round the fixed throne of their Roman sire
Thy sister states should hang, a pleiad choir,
With saintly beam unblunted and unblurred,
A splendor to the Christian splendor clinging,
A lyre star-strung, ever the "new song" singing!
Aubrey De Vere.