Such was Valentine, the Christian priest, who, by the sentence of the Emperor, was now led forth to his execution. The band of soldiers, with their prisoner, moved slowly onwards through the crowds that pressed upon them on every side, and winding along the south-eastern base of the Capitoline Hill, they passed the forums of Augustus Nerva and Trajan, and through the ancient wall of the city, built by Servius Tullius, into the Flaminian Way. The populace in the forums, as soon as the party had passed, rushed forward by various ways, through the Campus Martius, to gain the Flaminian Gate, and the whole of that long road, which now forms the magnificent street of the Corso, was lined with a dense mass of human beings, as Valentine and his guards passed along. At length they reached the gate in the walls of Honorius and Valerian, which then formed the northern boundary of the city, and passed into the open space beyond it. Here was the spot upon which preparation had been made for carrying into execution the sentence against the Christian. Being placed in the midst, the Præfect of the city came forward, and, for the last time, put to him the question which was to decide his fate, for it was the established custom, even at the last moment, to remit the sentence, if the condemned renounced his faith and sacrificed to the gods. "Valentinus, art thou a Christian ?" And Valentine said—" I am.” Then the Prefect again addressed him, and said : of darkness. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help. In him have I put my trust; I will not be afraid what man can do unto me." The soldiers were then proceeding to tie a bandage around his eyes; but Valentine said gently: "Suffer me to depart with unmuffled sight. I would willingly look my last upon the heavens." The men, apparently moved by his entreaty, looked towards the Prefect, who suffered his request to be granted, being contented that his hands should be bound. While this was doing, the Christian priest seemed to lose sight of the things around him, and to be absorbed wholly in spiritual contemplation. His eyes were intently fixed on the bright sky, to the eastward, and his lips moved with words which the multitude understood not. But one there was nigh at hand, who knew them, and rejoiced in the midst of the trial of his brother, as he heard these ejaculations: "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? "In all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us. "Neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Callistus bowed his head in resignation and hope. "Father," sighed he, "not our will, but thine, be done." A swaying of the multitude, and a shout, caused him to look up; and the headless and bleeding trunk of the martyr, Valentine, lay before him! "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." The blood of God's saints was not shed in vain on the soil of pagan Rome. Scarce a century elapsed before a Church, bearing his name, stood on the spot where Valentine had suffered; and in later time, another was erected to his memory, near the Ponte Molo; and when Christian emperors swayed the Roman sceptre, the Flaminian Way and Gate, through which the saint passed to his martyrdom, were known as the Via and the Porta Valentiniana. The stranger who now visits Rome may wander over the scene of our story; yet how changed its aspect and fortunes! He can enter through the magnificent gate, the "Porta del Popolo," which the genius of Canina has constructed, and pass down through the palaces that line the Corso on either side. He may wander through her forums; but he will look in vain for the living grandeur of the imperial city "tra l' erbe Cercando i grandi avanzi e le superbe Her temples are prostrate; her palaces unroofed and in ruins; her arches and columns defaced and broken. All so changed that the antiquarian pauses often in doubt, amidst the lonely and half-unburied ruins around, before he will venture to pronounce to what temple belong the still beautiful shafts that meet his eye, or fix the spot where the citizens met in their assembly, or the orators pleaded for their clients. Yet over the pagan ruins and the pagan memories rise on every side the Christian shrines. Many a cross is now planted, and many a pilgrim prays in the area of that circus which drank the blood of Christ's saints, as it flowed in rivers on its stones. And if the memory of Valentine arise to the mind, as the visiter lingers near the Roman Forum, let him turn his footsteps to the Church of San Pietro, in Carcere, and he will be shown the Mamertine prison, with some of its steps still remaining; and lower still, the cell where Paul lay in chains, and Valentine made converts. "Well," said the Parson, laying down the paper, "what do you think of it Jonathan?" "I protest," said I, "I am the worst judge in the world of such matters. I presume there is a great deal in it for which no authority can be adduced.” "Very likely there is," replied the Parson, "but that does not appear to me to furnish any valid objection to it. There is nothing contradictory either to history or tradition in it." "Are you sure of that?" said I. Bishop?" "For instance, was not Saint Valentine a "There was, no doubt, an African Bishop of that name, but he who suffered martyrdom in Rome had not attained to that rank in the Church. I admit, he is called a Bishop in some of the modern calendars, but the ancient historians of the Church, and all the martyrologies which I have been able to consult, call him simply Presbyter.' "In that case, I have nothing to say against the tale, on the score of historical correctness. Will you lend me the manuscript ?" "Certainly, but for what purpose?" "Why, I have a friend in town on whose judgment I place great reliance. I wish to have his opinion." "Who is that Jonathan?" "Mr. Poplar." "Good; but will he keep it to himself? I would not have the poor boy's composition scanned and criticised by your city literati.” "I must confess he has a most unjustifiable habit of making public anything that hits his fancy." : The Parson mused for a moment, as if undecided, at length he said :"Well be it so, Jonathan: send it to him, and let it take its fate. Somers is now beyond the reach of earthly criticism. Poor And so, dear Anthony, I took the packet and commit it to your tender mercies. At all events, it will serve to remind you of me. Ever my dear Anthony, JONATHAN FREKE SLINGSBY. A VALENTINE. TO MY DAUGHTER "MURILLO," FOURTEEN MONTHS OLD. Little darling daughter mine, Ah! I know the powers malign And that you prefer to banter, Now and then, with Tam O'Shanter, Or with that beauteous brown and brawny Leathery Indian doll, The Tawney. Than with me. My day is o'er: You clap your hands but for Tom Moore Seeing your father is a bard); And things have terribly so gone ill, You put your finger to your nose, Our old friend "Sancho with the Duchess." Well, if I'm baulked in all I ask, Be kind, at least, to this poor task: And shake your head, and say, tis good!* The above recondite allusions in italics, referring merely to little Eleusinian mysteries of the nursery and parlour, like much of the wit of Aristophanes, must ever remain a puzzle to the critics. February 14, 1851. Darling, thy mother sends to thee THE PAPAL AGGRESSION.—VINDICIE ANGLICANÆ.* Ir the degree of public attention attracted by a measure were any security for its excellence, Lord John Russell's Bill should be a model of legislative perfection. Its subject has for some months occupied a large portion of every newspaper in the kingdom; it has been considered in a lengthened parliamentary debate, and has afforded the text of no small number of published letters and pamphlets. It is not intended in these few pages to enter at large into a discussion with which, under such circumstances, most readers must be familiar, if not weary; but the small volume, of which the title is given below, is selected from the mass of these publications, as having higher claims to attention than most others, and containing matter peculiarly appropriate to the stage at which the question now stands. The leading feature of the Papal aggression is the Pope's Bull of the 29th of September last. It assumes, by the power of the Pope, to parcel out England into dioceses, and to provide a system of Church government for the country and all its inhabitants, under his absolute control, abolishing all previous inconsistent ecclesiastical customs. Prior to this he had changed the usual course of appointing Irish Roman Catholic bishops, by nominating Dr. Cullen to the titular primacy, and since September he has issued a new Bull, creating a new diocese in Ireland. The object of all this is stated to be to perfect the Roman Catholic Church establishment, and give it increased unity and power of action in the United Kingdom. Since Dr. Cullen's appointment he has held one synod in Ireland. The House of Commons has, by an overwhelming majority, decided that some law is to be made to meet this aggression. Most of the speaking and writing has been as yet devoted to this first step; and in looking back upon it one cannot fail to be struck with the paucity of arguments urged against the decision to which the House has come. They were, in fact, but these two-that the measures of the Pope and their consequences were purely religious, and any restriction upon them would be an interference with that perfect religious liberty long since conceded, and indeed guaranteed, to Roman Catholics, in common with all other British subjects; and that, even if it were possible to detect in them an encroachment on the temporal power, the attack was from a potentate too insignificant as a worldly prince to affect such an empire as the British. It was possible to argue the question on other grounds, and to have defended the Pope's Bull. This was hardly attempted in the House of Commons. There, those who wished for the progress of ultramontane opi "Vindicia Anglicana.-England's Right against Papal Wrong; being an Attempt to suggest the Legislation by which it ought to be asserted. By One 'who has sworn faithfully and truly to advise the Queen."" London: Seeleys. 1851. nions, and an increase of power to the Roman Church, dared not admit such a desire was the true ground for their opposition. The candid avowals of Cardinal Wiseman and his sympathisers, cautious as they were, gave their friends in parliament more trouble than assistance. Without either praising the step as a well devised measure for strengthening the Roman Catholic Church, or acknowledging that the Pope had committed a blunder, it was impossible to go into its merits. This accounts for the few topics, apart from angry declamation, on which the discussion really turned. These two topics have, no doubt, been put in every variety of form, and enforced by every possible illustration. They have little novelty. The pretext that any favourite scheme of Church aggrandizement is not to be resisted by the State because it is a matter of religious feeling, is as old as the first encroachments of ecclesiastical tyranny. The power of the Pope and his Church, like that of all similar bodies, necessarily rests on the religious impressions of those whom it influences. The only mode by which any matter can be brought or kept legitimately within ecclesiastical controul, is by being dealt with as a matter of religion. It is plain, therefore, that the influence and power of the priesthood are extensive in proportion to the number and importance of those things which they can range under the category of religious matters; and the multitude of human affairs that have at various times been alleged to be within it is little to be wondered at. To oppose some of the most elementary and obvious doctrines of civil jurisprudence enunciated in the constitutions of Clarendon, was a religious duty in the days of Thomas a-Becket. To resist equally simple principles enforced by the Sicardi law is, at this hour, an exercise of piety in Piedmont. Giraldus Cambrensis, and the High Romish party of his day, branded the poor Irish as irreligious because they did not pay tithes. To pay them wounds the conscience of his successors in opinion. In the palmy days of ecclesiastical power it was a religious observance that all the personal property of a deceased intestate should go to the bishop for the good of the former owner's soul. It is little more than a year since the case of M'Carthy v. M'Carthy, in the Irish Court of Chancery, brought before the public evidence of extortion in a convent under colour of religious duty, nearly as shocking as any similar occurrence in former times. Obedience to the Holy Office was a religious duty, and the institution and sustainment of the Inquisition became a matter of conscience. That it is the duty of parents to submit to the judgment of their clergy for the selection of their children's teachers and studies, has repeatedly been impressed on the pious. At one period education was by law, in many countries, a matter of ecclesiastical superintendence on this ground. Ireland has lately been made to ring with declamations on the danger to good Catholics of hearing a heretic medical lecturer in the Queen's Colleges. To many it is a matter of religion to abstain from particular amusements or wear a peculiar dress. In fact in the whole range of human affairs, from the most important duties of the legislature to the most insignificant of a girl's fancies-from the ruling of a nation to the pattern of a petticoatthere is nothing which may not be represented as proper to be regulated by religion alone. The Romish doctrine of the Church's supreme authority is most ingeniously adapted for using this contrivance to extend her power. Once make anything a matter of religion, and it necessarily falls within her absolute controul. It is little wonder, then, that in every struggle in which her encroachments have been resisted, or her power assailed, the same ground has been taken. In the twelfth century her opponents were branded with impiety, and their supporters panic-stricken with the terrors of spiritual crimes; in the nineteenth century her opponents are represented as religious persecutors-on precisely the same grounds. The objection that the proposed law would interfere with religious liberty, of course assumed, in the first stage of the question, that it would be impossible to devise any measure to restrict the Papal encroachment, which would not do violence to the consciences of Roman Catholics; and this in the face of the almost unanimous declaration, that any measure which would really restrict religious liberty would not be supported. Throughout the discussion the advocates of the measure have stecred completely clear of polemics. |