ing to have the matter tried, and against one | Archbishop Spaulding, on my return from who offers to submit to justice you must not Rome, I paid a visit to the bishop of Anproceed as against a criminal until his cause necy, in Savoy. I was struck by the splenhas been heard. In the mean time, prepare dor of his palace, and saw a sentinel at the for war. This decision will be the best for door, placed there by the French government yourselves and the most formidable to your as a guard of honor. But the venerable bishenemies." op soon disabused me of my favorable impressions. He told me that he was in a state of gilded slavery. "I cannot," said he, "build as much as a sacristy without obtaining permission of the government."

TH

Translation of B. JOWETT, M. A.

AMERICAN RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. HANK GOD, we live in a country where liberty of conscience is respected, and where civil constitution holds over us the ægis of her protection, without intermeddling with ecclesiastical affairs. From my heart I say, "America, with all thy faults, I love thee still." And perhaps at this moment there is no nation on the face of the earth where the Church is less trammeled, and where she has more liberty to carry out her sublime destiny, than in these United States.

For my part, I much prefer the system which prevails in this country, where the temporal needs of the Church are supplied by voluntary contributions of the faithful, to the system which obtains in some Catholic countries of Europe, where the Church is supported by the government, thereby making feeble reparation for the gross injustice it has done to the Church by its former wholesale confiscation of ecclesiastical property. And the Church pays dearly for this indemnity, for she has to bear the perpetual attempts at interference and the vexatious enactments of the civil power, which aims at making her wholly dependent upon itself.

Some years ago, in company with the late

I do not wish to see the day when the Church will invoke or receive any government aid to build our churches or to pay the salary of our clergy, for the government may then begin to dictate to us what doctrines we ought to preach. And in proportion as state patronage would increase, the sympathy and aid of the faithful would diminish.

I heartily pray that religious intolerance may never take root in our favored land. May the only king to force our conscience be the King of kings, may the only prison. erected among us for the sin of unbelief or misbelief be the prison of a troubled conscience, and may our only motive for embracing truth be, not the fear of man, but the love of truth and of God!

THE COMMON DOOM.

ICTORIOUS men of earth, | In your beauty's pale declension

no more

empires are;
Though you bind in every

You would

grace

When your

with condescension

Proclaim how wide your The love that touched you never
bloom and hopes were high.
Ah! but what if I discover
That too long in antique fashion
I have nursed a fruitless passion,
Whose rage and reign-thank Heaven!-
Are passed at length and over-

And your triumphs reach

As night or day,
Yet you, proud monarchs,
must obey,

And mingle with forgotten ashes, when
Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.

Devouring Famine, Plague and War,

Each able to undo mankind, Death's servile emissaries are; Nor to these alone confined:

He hath at will

That Fate hath locked for ever Love's gol-
den Eden gate?

There's a wrong beyond redressing,
There's a prize not worth possessing,
And a lady's condescension

May come an hour too late.

PAUL H. HAYNE.

The brightness of her glance had fled
As stars flee from the day;

The rose that decked her crimson cheek
Was blasted by decay.

The dews of death sat sternly cold
Upon her marble brow;
The snowy bosom heaved no more:
'Twas moist and clammy now;
The eye that once with fond delight

Shone like the meteor's blaze
Now sunk and lustreless was fixed,
A dead and sightless gaze.

The dark hair o'er her forehead fell
And veiled its icy chill;
Life's sparkling founts were frozen up,
The throbbing heart was still;
The shadowy frame of soulless clay,

So beauteous once, and blest,
Lay like a sculptured form of stone,

Wrapped in eternal rest.

The fleshless hands were clasped across
Her breast, as if her soul
'Mid worship's seraph-breathings flew
To reach heaven's blissful goal;
About her livid lips still played

The last faint smile she gave,

A king observed a flock widespread
Upon the plains, most admirably fed,
O'erpaying largely, as returned the years,
Their shepherd's care by harvests for his
shears.

Such pleasure in this man the monarch took,
"Thou meritest," said he, "to wield a
crook

O'er higher flock than this, and my esteem.
O'er men now makes thee judge supreme."
Behold our shepherd, scales in hand,

Like moonlight's lingering farewell gleam Although a hermit and a wolf or two,

Upon a mouldering grave.

I stood beside the shrouded bier

And kissed the lifeless earth,

And wept to think that joys like hers

Should perish at their birth;

'Tis even so the greenest bud
In summer's glow will fade,
And hallowed hopes of years to come
Are oft the first decayed.

JAMES WITHERS.

Besides his flock and dogs, were all he knew.
Well stocked with sense, all else upon

demand

Would come, of course, and did, we under

stand.

His neighbor hermit came to him to say,
"Am I awake? Is this no dream, I pray?
You favorite? You great? Beware of

kings!

Their favors are but slippery things,