shaken out of their place by the explosion, were easily distinguished by their size and shape; and the little boy, as he was directed, led his great grandfather, for in such relation they stood to each other, and placed him sitting on one of the stones. The old man never attempted to identify them with his eye; but his hand wandered vaguely over the smooth face of the stone, until he found the carved letters so often alluded to, when solemnly lifting his dim eyes to heaven, he said, "Glory be to God, for all he was pleased to leave me to witness. My young hands reared these walls for one angry man, and carved these letters for another. I was young yet, when I saw a woman's foolish anger provoke a man's wild pas sion, and anger dip itself in blood; and now the anger of man does the bidding of God upon all, and lays this strong castle in the dust for evermore. God's name be praised for all things, but his ways are wonderful.” The old man sat awhile in solemn meditation-his little unconscious descendant gambolling around him—and then feebly returned to his home at no great distance; and the next morning old Jack Barrett, "the Father of the Barony," as he had long been called, was found quietly dead in his bed, without groan or struggle. So ends a strange eventful history. "I cannot tell how it might be, I say the tale, as 'twas said to me." R. One lady's name, One lady's fame He heard where'er crusader came. The wand'ring palmer told her praise, And many an exile's prayer had she; Or fired the Frankish chivalry. They left the maids of sunny Rhodes, And the battle-fields of Jewery, Both prince and peer who wore the cross, To win the flower of Tripoli. A princess of the western line Of gentle Raymond of Tolouse, Her sires had fought in Palestine, Where'er Duke Godfrey's banner flew; And now her name in love's sweet tone It soothed the murmurs of the Rhone, And sighed along the sedgy Loire. As And thus one minstrel sadly sung, That I must grieve o'er, silently. Thus For her so loved, so far away." And though his eye ne'er knew the bliss That washed his own beloved strand :- That waits by that fair lady's hand It's oh! to find a lowly grave, And lie within that lady's land. No more I'll wander, lorn and lone, His lance was foremost in the lists, His lay within the lady's bower; Will mourn her absent troubadour. For o'er the ocean-well wide Now floats his melancholy lay; The rugged seamen weep beside, As still he sings "She's far away." His lyre so sweetly murmured on, Where swept the waves like liquid gold, But wildly, boldly, rung its tone Where stormy waters roared and rolled. And now triumphant hope it told— But sadder grew both lay and lyre- And as the long-sought lady's land And ere his bark had touched the strand, He knew that he had come to die. But still he sung in broken tones "Oh! welcome death, when hope is dead: That this beloved one doth tread." He gave the groves of his Garonne Translated extracts from Geoffry Rudel's poems, in which frequent allusion is made to the distant object of his affections. †The Bay of Biscay. And still his prayer was, once to see And lo! ere death had closed his eye Such as the fervent ecstacy Of inspiration never drew— And well his heart the loved one knew He gently smiled on her, and lo! The voice of song was hushed in death; In sorrow drank thy dying breath, She said, while weeping by his side- Adieu, adieu, ye glittering throng- No song is left like Rudel's song— And drooping as a willow wand, The rings from off her velvet hand, And rich attire and princely halls Where, 'mid its sad and silent walls, And there in prayer long pined away Till by the Troubadour of Blaye The above poem, wild and incredible as the devotion that it depicts may appear, is founded on circumstances that, if not historical, have all the authenticity that writers nearly contemporary with the hero, and the universal credit of those of two succeeding ages, can give them. St. Palaye, in his "History of the Troubadours," gives the narrative of the romantic passion of Geoffrey Rudel for the Countess of Tripoli, whose beauty was a world-wide theme at the time of the last crusade. His voyage to see his unseen lady-love-his death on his reaching the shore-her visit, and her subsequently retiring into a nunnery, are all given as matters of fact; and three centuries after, the marble mausoleum that she raised to the memory of her lover was still to be seen. Such devotion, however we may regard it, was not inconsistent with the romantic love of those chivalric times. BUTLER ON DEVELOPMENT.* Ir may be doubted whether this, though a posthumous publication, has suffered at all by the circumstances under which it has now issued from the press. The zeal of Mr. Butler's friends has probably reproduced these letters in as complete and accurate a form as he would himself have been disposed to give them, had Providence been pleased to spare him to us longer. They bore, indeed, at their first appearance, some marks of haste upon them; but those defects were not such as none but the author himself can safely remedy. There was no fault of the first concoction-hardly a vestige of imperfect plan or execution in the reasoning, or the arrangement, or even the style. Though, in their immediate composition, the work," as Mr. Woodward tells us, "of hurried moments, snatched from labours of beneficence to the starving crowds who flocked around their author's residence," that work was but the expression of thoughts long revolved in the capacious mind of one whose words, "like airy ministers," were ever ready at his will to range themselves in wellordered files to execute their service to his intellect. The imperfections of which we speak were such as were, under his circumstances, unavoidable. They were occasioned by want of time, and opportunity for a careful examination, and weighing of some authorities cited upon minor parts of the argument. In correcting these blemishes, his editor has judiciously availed himself of the help (always readily given when worthily sought) of Mr. Gibbings, a gentleman whose large and recondite bibliographical erudition would be rare in any country, and is almost unique in this. It is not, we think, too much to say, that the joint labours of two such able commentators upon this part of the work have presented the documentary literature of the question, upon the whole, in even a fuller and fairer shape than Mr. Butler him self could have given to it. The honest vigilance with which they have discharged their duty is indeed worthy of all praise; nor will any but low and narrow minds see anything in the stern accuracy with which every, the least, error of statement or citation is noticed and corrected, but what real friendship, as well as truth, demanded from them. Could there be any discrepancy between the demands of these, they would, no doubt, have nobly determined with the Stagirite, DIY TOOτιμὴν τὴν ἀληθείαν. But in this case there could be none. There can be no doubt that the great man who has been taken from us would be the first to blame the cowardly and false friend. ship which should dissemble or extenuate any error into which he might have fallen from personal partiality to himself. "Falsus honor juvat, et mendax infamia terret Quem nisi mendosum et mendacem ?" If Mr. Butler, writing in a remote and almost savage region, beset night and day by the unfortunate cries of a starving population, fell now and then into some mistakes, the greatest of those errors may find more than a parallel in the blunders of an antagonist who laboured under no such disadvantages, and who yet could confound Paul of Samosata with the Apostle; while, at any rate, the genuine candour of his character kept him clear from those wilful prevarications which disgrace the statements of the faithless priest of the oratory. The contrast, indeed, between the two men is striking. Both learned, both expert dialecticians, both masters of no vulgar rhetoric: but the causes in which these potent arms are wielded were not more different than the spirit which actuated the combatants. One heartily believing in the power of reason to elicit and establish truth, and faithfully applying that power to the "Letters on the Development of Christian Doctrine, in reply to Mr. Newman's Essay." By the Rev. William Archer Butler, M.A., late Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Dublin. Dublin: Hodges and Smith. 1850. This discovery-the other avowedly sceptical, without faith in the efficacy of the instrument which he affects to use; choosing first the object of his faith, and then looking round for topics to vindicate that faith to the intellects of other men. Even at first sight one is struck, as in the comparison of two countenances with the honesty stamped upon the face of the one work, and the guile which lurks under the hypocritical features of the other. There is something, indeed, in Father Newman's manner of even approaching a subject characteristic of the peculiarities of his mind. He has, partly from nature and partly from inveterate habit, a sort of intellectual squint, which incapacitates him from taking a straightforward view of anything. The mind's eye glances off from a direct survey by a kind of instinct to the sides of what he contemplates, and, losing sight of everything that is most obvious to others, lights upon some collateral relation to accidental circumstances, and fastens there. sinister power of descrying, and readiness to seize the wrong handle of everything, is (curiously enough) what gives him, with many, the reputation for depth of thought, which he is certainly far from deserving. The deep relations of things are, to be sure, not obvious; but it is only a confused judgment which concludes that therefore unobvious relations are profound. A relation wholly casual and accidental is often much less obvious than a necessary and essential one; nor is it depth, but a kind of superficial subtilty which is required for tracing such remote but non-essential relations of things. With that sort of superficial subtilty Father Newman is largely endowed; and to this invaluable gift of logic he adds a rhetorical talent most serviceable also to a sophist. His wares are all exhibited in a many-coloured and uncertain light, which makes it very difficult to take an accurate survey of the showy fabrics which the voluble and persuasive dealer exhibits for your custom; and, in this deceitful medium, a thousand tricks are successfully played off, which it would be no easy task to mark and enumerate one by one. Infinite are the resources of dialectic legerdemain in this dextrous manipulator of arguments, and everything is continually changing shapes under his magic touch. Sometimes a word or two slipped in at the right place, "with careless heed and giddy cunning," carries a conclusion far beyond its premises. Sometimes a dazzling illustration so diverts the reader's eye from the true point of the question, that it is changed upon him in a twinkling before he can look round. Sometimes, where the straight and beaten path would lead too plainly to an undesirable position, he is beguiled, upon some specious pretext, into a trackless fairy land, and led up and down its mazes until the safer and direct highway on which he started is forgotten. Truth, when it is to be opposed, is skilfully blended with error, and then the error brought strongly into light, while the truth is cast into the shade; and falsehood, when it is to be recommended, is mixed with truth, and made to pass current under the gilding. While, during the whole process, there is such an air of sanctity thrown around the performer as secures the sympathy of the simple, and makes the very suspicion of craft appear little short of blasphemy. What, for example, can breathe more holily the spirit of devout sincerity than the solemn appeal to the reader's conscience with which Father Newman, fresh from the regenerating waters of his second baptism, prefaces his Nunc Dimittis?" Wrap not yourself round in the associations of years past; nor determine that to be truth which you wish to be so, nor make an idol of cherished anticipations." "At cum aspicias tristem, cave frugi censeas ?" 66 This is the same man who tells you (p. 330), that "Faith is not necessarily or ordinarily based on reason, but connected with the previous hope of the things believed;" that (p. 331) “ the majority are to believe first, &c., prove afterwards;" that (p. 327) "we must begin with believing and that conviction will follow ;" that, under Catholic teaching (p. 337), 66 arguments will come to be considered rather as representations and persuasives, than as logical proofs ;" and that," on religious subjects we may prove anything, or overthrow anything, and can arrive at the truth but accidentally, if we merely investigate by what is commonly called reason; which is, in such matters, but the instrument, at best, in the hands of the legitimate judge, spi |