tinguished by the most stupendous energies of the human mind; by enlightened men, whose genius and perseverance were exerted, not only in illustrating and defending their religious professsion, but in giving origin to, and perfecting the most beautiful works of art and science; and all this with a degree of courage and perseverance of which history has recorded no parallel examples."-" Hence, for example, arose those sublime conceptions in ecclesiastical architecture, which we still see in old cathedrals and abbeys built by Catholics, and which the devotees of the present rage for Grecian temples and Chinese pagodas have, from a false opinion of their origin, absurdly denominated Gothic. "The lute of the minstrel, the voice of the chorister, the chisel of the sculptor, the pencil of the painter, were alike devoted to the holy cause, and with an unprecedented degree of success, during the middle ages. Where shall we find more beautiful pictures than those which Raphael, Michael Angelo, Rubens, and numerous other artists of the old Italian and Flemish schools, have painted in illustration of sacred history? Or where do we behold more grand and inspiring buildings than those churches and religious houses which they were painted to adorn."* I remain, for the present, your very obedient servant, CRITO. For the Catholic Miscellany. DE VAUX.-A TALE. By D. S. L. O cielos! qué es lo que he visto ? Matar los sierros de Cristo ! EL FRATO DE ARGEL, par. CERVANTES. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. FIFTY years have now gone by, since an engagement, partly of pleasure, and partly of necessity, conducted me into the north of Staffordshire. It was a hazy evening in February, and as I entered See also the Perennial Calendar, Harding and Co., 8vo. London, 1823, under the days July 20, Aug. 1, Nov. 2 and 29, &c. &c., where will be found various illustrations of the excellence of Catholic institutions, from the pen of many excellent writers. the little village of D, I felt particularly impressed with a sort of mental gloom, a certain longing for adventure, which is natural to my character. I was then young, daring, and romantic; a tide of associations was sweeping across my soul, and every step that my Rosinante advanced on the road, had something chivalrous or something ideal about it. At the entrance of the village lay the magnificent ruins of what tradition states to have been, in Catholic times, a monastery of some consideration: the ivy twined in holy verdure round its dilapidated walls; the large Gothic window afforded shelter to the owl and the raven, and the deserted condition of the neighbourhood was happily in unison with the object that engrossed my attention. I instinctively drew up my horse, and stopped for an instant to ruminate on the grandeur and the architecture of other times, and to indulge in a bitter reflection on the sad alteration which our ancient pride and our ancient religion has undergone. In this mood, I should probably have remained for some hours, rooted to the spot, had not the shades of night, which were gathering on a dark and lurid horizon warned me that it would be prudent to secure my lodging; and, accordingly, I rode ou, when a little distance brought me to the village hostelrie, This was a neat and unostentatious building, little above a modern ale-house, but well adapted to ensure comfort to the stranger, who should make it his temporary abode. I was tired, and, reining in my steed, enquired if I could be accommodated for the night. On my arrival, the landlady, all bustle and confusion, all promise and good nature, hurried to the door, and, after putting the interrogatory to a fat-faced, red-nosed, limping groom, who stood near— John, an't all the 'partments full just about now with these stranger people? But no matter, say I, we'll 'commodate the jontleman. Eh, John ?" She informed me that the house was then entirely occupied, but that there was one gentleman who had monopolized a sitting-room to himself, and that if I had no objection, she would enquire whether he would admit me to share its comforts. This was a proposition, to which I of course acceded; and, accordingly, after a short absence, Dame Betty returned with the permission. "This way, Sir! This way, Sir!"-echoed Betty, as she acted my cicerone to the apartment, into which, after having once or twice materially endangered the soundness of my neck from the intervention of sundry tubs, &c., she introduced me with a sort of demicourtesy, and a sort of killing smile, meant, no doubt, to convey an expression of the highest civility. On entering, my first impulse was to take a survey of the chamber, which, however, presented nothing worthy of record. About the middle stood the hearth, and on it blazed a most exhilarating fire before it was a table, which yet did not exhibit any thing more edible than the planks; and, at this table, sat the prior tenant, evidently engaged in the perusal of some papers of incalculable interest, for, neither on my immediate entrance, nor on my nearer approach, did he uplift his head, or turn his eye, from the task with which he was so intensely employed. This abstraction was not a little extraordinary, nor did I regret it, as it gave me an opportunity of reconnoitering the person and the bearing of my new companion. I have, during the fortunes of a wayward life, been occasionally thrown into contact with individuals of every varying form of character, and every differing peculiarity of feature; but never, until then, had I met a being who so instantaneously commanded my respect, and excited my curiosity. The stranger was of the middle size, rather below than above; slightly framed, and apparently little calculated for a laborious or a toilsome life. His features were sharp and intelligent, furrowed by seeming care, marked by the sternest mortification, and yet beaming with kindness and charity. His forehead was high and ample, such as Lavater assigns to men of superior minds; his head almost bare, or thinly scattered with a few silver hairs; and while occupied with his manuscript, his eyes seemed sunken and destitute of expression; but when he entered into conversation, this want of soul altogether disappeared, and they shone with a quickness and lustre, that betrayed feeling and ability. His attire, although strictly adapted for travelling, was such as the wealthier classes then wore; and it seemed to me, that although studiously careless, there was an air of concealment about it, which materially added to my curiosity. Half an hour elapsed, and the stranger at length arose from his chair; folded up his papers with a sigh, and casting a suspicious and scrutinising glance at me, walked, with calm and easy step, once or twice up and down the room. At last, finding that he evinced no inclination to break our mutual silence, I commenced by expressing my hope that my presence was not intrusive. I had scarcely uttered the sentence, when coming up to the fire-place, the stranger answered, in a tone of mingled caution and enquiry: : "I can hardly presume to say, until we have the pleasure of knowing more of each other. In the distracted state in which this country has so long been," and here, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he stopped and said, "May I take the liberty of asking your name?" As there was little necessity, on my side, for concealment, I frankly gave him all the information that he sought: when, on hearing the brief detail of my family and pretensions, his countenance brightened, his eye glistened, and, taking me warmly by the hand, he exclaimed: "Thank heaven, my prayer has at length been heard. I have found one in whom I may confide!" Our subsequent conversation explained his meaning, and a few hours placed us on the most intimate terms. Inclination led us both to prolong our stay at the "D- Arms;" and, during the period of our residence together, I learned that my associate was a priest of the English College at Paris; that early retrospects of the fondest nature bound him to England, and that now he had returned to revisit, before his death, the land of his fathers and his loves. In addition to his theological acquirements, he was also an antiquary; and devoting all his leisure hours to a collection, as far as regarded Catholicity, of that store of private incident and historical fact, with which the reigns of Elizabeth, and her immediate successors were so frightfully pregnant. He had compiled some sketches of a very interesting, and a very original cast. He was completely aware of the sufferings and the persecutions in which my family bore a distinguished part; and as he had been personally acquainted with my father, he found the less difficulty in granting me a confidence, which his heart yearned to bestow. He said, that during his pilgrimage he had found it convenient to adopt a disguise, and lay aside the externals of his sacerdotal character; that he had been unfortupate in meeting with few, who were not of the establishedreligion; and that there was a secret, which he stongly wished to deposit, before he left the kingdom, in the hands of some kindred spirit. "You," said the priest, earnestly addressing himself to me, "are the person for whom I have so long sought. Providence has sent you in my way, and your name and connections must be the sureties of your fidelity. Among those papers, with which I was taken up when you first beheld me, are some of the greatest interest: they embrace the fortunes and misfortunes of some leading sufferers during the penal sway of the intolerant Elizabeth; they inform us of some domestic particulars, calculated to excite the most painful pleasure, and are principally connected with the epoch of the Armada. They were first begun by the accomplished Father Gerard, and, by some means have come into my possession. I have bestowed infinite labour on their completion; and, with some anxiety for their future fate, I now bequeath them to your disposal, with this promise, -that you do not give them to the public until I have ceased to exist." The old man finished,-a tear started in his eye-he gave me the papers-I knelt down and received his solemn blessing: the midnight chime had already tolled from the village clock, and we retired to our rooms-I to tumble over my new acquisition; he, to appease the feelings which then seemed to be bursting within him. Whatever may have been the sensations of my reverend friend, mine were such as to preclude the possibility of sleep, and accordingly, in the morning, as soon as decency would allow, I left my room to seek for my companion. But on enquiring after him, I discovered that he had left the inn some time after midnight; gone whither, few asked, and no one knew. "The D. Arms" had now lost their attraction, and on the following day I also bade them adieu. Time passed on, and I heard not of the priest; until, about ten years afterwards, when the Revolution broke out with all its horrors, I was sorry to learn that Father Talbot was among those martyrs, who were so treacherously and so inhumanly drowned in the Seine. Up to now, I have never since had leisure to attend to the MS. I have, notwithstanding, taken the liberty of modernizing the friar's style, and of entirely depriving it of all quaintness of expression; and, now that an opportunity opens for presenting it to the Catholic public, I am glad to avail myself of it. (To be continued.) REVIEW OF LATE PUBLICATIONS. An Earnest Appeal to the People called Methodists, and to the Nation at large. London: WV. E. Andrews. 1827. Ar this particular period, when a designing Lord is carrying on his politico-theological tricks, and baiting the hook of the Reformation with lumps of bacon, to attract the hungry jaws of Irishmen, whom he had before studiously famished to his purpose; at this period, when artful men with new black coats, purchased, perhaps, at the expense of those whom they have humbugged and duped, vigorously, though with greatly diminished effect, pursue their deceiving trade of collecting, ostensibly for printing and circulating bibles, but in |