of cowardice a crime. In the Romagna in some respects a better spirit prevails. A noble example of Christian firmness was displayed in Tuscany by the Cardinal Archbishop of Pisa; so in Bologna by Cardinal Viale Prela. We expected nothing less from the author of the glorious Austrian Concordat. In Bologna not a single priest or monk could be found to sing a Te Deum in honour of the triumph of Victor Emanuel. An army chaplain had to be sought for this purpose from the ranks of the Piedmontese freebooters. On the Romagna a graver responsibility rests, and a heavier crime against justice, as well as religion, is committed in its violent annexation to Piedmont. To effect this unhappy consummation the same evil influences were at work as had prevailed in Tuscany in undermining the ground-work of society. We find the same intimidation and bribery brought to bear upon the one part; and upon the other, at best, but a feeble resistance and a silent opposition. If, on the one hand, in the Legations a less ambitious and worldly spirit was visible, and not so wide-spread a corruption, yet, on the other, an even greater cowardice was manifested.*

The expenditure of public money was quite as lavish in the Romagna as in Tuscany, Parma, and Modena. The virtues of moderation and economy are, by their own showing, incompatible with revolutionary governments. Public men were tampered with, and new offices of emolument were created to further the ends of corruption. New chairs were erected in the University of Bologna, and a still greater propensity towards religious indifference and incipient sceptism was encouraged in the numerous high schools, where already for so long a period evil tendencies and a bad spirit have unhappily prevailed. In all these social causes that go far to foster, and under exciting circumstances, almost to necessitate a revolution, and in

A priest in the Romagna, known for his piety and attachment, came to a friend of ours, not an Italian, to solicit contributions towards the establishment of the Italic kingdom. How, was the reply, can a man of your faith and piety be concerned in such a cause? It is sad, indeed, rejoined the latter, it is miserable, but what can we do? we must go with the tide, there's no help for it. The pious man had no love for martyrdom, had not even a spark of manly courage. He was the representative man of his class.

the various phenomena of Italian society to-day, too striking a resemblance exists to the state of Portugal under Don Miguel, not to lead us to fear that like causes will produce a similarity of effect in unfortunate Italy. We need but reflect for a moment on the unhappy state into which Portugal has fallen, after the convulsions and the success of the revolution, to feel a deep misgiving for the future of Italy. And we have but to examine the concurrent causes at work, and the social and religious condition of the two countries at the periods we suggest, and their position in regard to the rest of Europe, to be convinced that the misgiving we entertain is not a groundless fear or an exaggerated apprehension. The same public attention is now bestowed by all the liberals of Europe on the internal concerns of Italy, as in the time of Don Miguel, was lavished on Portugal. The same fabricated and repeated lie, which is now circulating throughout Europe against the Papal Government, and against the kingdom of Naples, bore down in terrible force, in 1828, against Portugal, and left in the end the king an exile and religion a wreck. The stain of false accusation still sticks to Don Miguel, and lingers around his name like an everlasting reproach. And the Church of Portugal, after so long a period of revolutionary riot, is still a scandal in Europe. To bring about in Italy these still unaccomplished results of her revolution, a similar agency is at work to that which achieved such guilty success in Portugal. Under the name of liberty, insubordination and revolt are advocated in Italy by the statesmen of Europe. The England of Lord Palmerston, so abhorrent to the royalists of Portugal for its audacious intrigues carried on in the heart of their country, and for its profligate support of the enemies of their king, is still as active and as forward as ever, in the internal concerns of foreign countries, is again on the side of revolt, and again is lecturing sovereigns on their duties, and telling them in offensive terms how they should administer the affairs of their own kingdoms. The hand of Lord Palmerston is again at its old work, and has lost none of its ancient cunning. It will be a singular coincidence if the veteran friend of revolt who tried his 'prentice hand upon Portugal, shall to-day, at the head of English affairs, achieve the master-piece of his art in giving the finishing touch to the Italian Revolution. But not only in its external relations do we discover a similarity be-,

tween the Portugal of 1828 and the Italy of the present day, but still more apparent in its internal condition is the existence of this resemblance. We detect the same Erastian policy on the throne, and the same fatal pliancy on the part of too many of the bishops of the Church. In a large and active portion of the people the same restless desire makes itself felt for a "liberty" which has no regard for the rights of the throne, no reverence for the sacredness of the altar. We find in the universities of Italy, and even of the Papal-States, the same evil and inveterate tendencies, the same bias towards a false liberalism in politics and religion, and the same boast of an affected enlightenment in keeping with the spirit of the age as afflicted the mind of Portugal at the period referred to. In both countries alike the same weapon was resorted to in the commencement of the struggle, a press that knew no limits to its calumnies, and recognised no restraint to its abuse of all that was holy, of all that was most reverenced in the hearts of the people. If in Portugal the people in the towns were by far more corrupt, they are more cowardly by far in Italy. The cowardice of the good in the one country was scarcely exceeded by the viciousness of the bad in the other. In both countries alike an outward observance was paid to religion that was all but edifying, while the vivid apprehension of its supernatural claims was being weakened and lost in the minds of men. In both the Papal authority, in the course of the struggle was set at nought. In the one an excommunicated king still rejoices with archiepiscopal Te Deums" ringing in his ears, over his short-lived and dearly bought triumphs. In Portugal, before the success of the "Portuguese Victor Emanuel," though incomparably superior to her present desolate and fallen condition, the Church suffered in the luxuriousness of living of too many of her clergy, in the relaxation of discipline in her richer monasteries, and in the worldly mindedness of not a few of her bishops. Such a state in her religious life precipitated the fall of Portugal. Is a similar cause not at work to-day in the Church of Italy, undermining the unstable foundations of Italian society? We are not speaking of conduct that shocks and scandalises; the supervision is too excellent and too complete to tolerate an approach to such an abuse, but only of the forerunners of vice, the vanity of spirit and the laxity of discipline, which fall like a blight over the

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first fruits of faith, and dry up by their absorbing presence the juices of the tree of life. In tracing the origin of the Italian revolution we cannot blind ourselves to the fact that the worldlymindedness of a large portion of the clergy, the utter absence of heroic endurance in their character, and the want of a keen apprehension of the duties of their position in regard to the necessities of the eventful times they live in, are one and not the least of the predisposing causes of the present unhappy state of Italy. Let us cast our eyes abroad, and confess frankly what we clearly see. Let us do so in the name and in the interests of truth, and we shall not be misunderstood. Who so blind, then, we ask, as not to recognize heralds of the far-off storm, harbingers of the gathering cloud, though "no bigger than a man's hand," in the loosening of the ties of attachment to Rome, in the receding from the rock of Peter? Has not Rome pronounced sentence, has not Peter spoken? yet why is the cause not finished?" why is the Italian revolution not at an end? Is it not because that luxury and pomp of grandeur have cast a fascination over the minds of those in high places, who were bound to set an heroic example to their flocks, and have failed to do so in the day of trial? Is it not because the love of ease incapacitates the richer clergy from the discharge, at all hazards, of their obvious duty, or because unmanly timidity chokes their utterance and binds up their lips? Are not the lower clergy unresponsive to the voice of Rome, because they are infected to a great extent with the popular vanity and with the vain ambition of a "one and undivided Italy?" Are not these weaknesses among the causes of the prevailing supineness in the by far greater portion of the Italian clergy? We know that the bad and the bold come to the surface and make themselves heard, while the voice of the good and the timid is scarcely uplifted. But yet the whole body must abide by the acts it acquiesces in, and it is responsible for the voice of the spokesman it does not repudiate. In Portugal, when the fury of the storm swept over the land, its monks and priests were driven into the woods, and hunted up to the hills, where they sought refuge against the wrath of the revolution. They had, in spite of their failings, exhibited in word and deed, an uncompromising resistance to the enemies of their king and of their religion. They were the first victims to revolutionary revenge. They died of hunger in the caverns on

the hill-side, in the woods and in the waste lands, whither they had fled from the sword of the pursuer. Are the monasteries and the clergy of Italy girding themselves up for a like encounter? A period must come to the policy of concession. Compliance with the increasing and insolent demands of the enemies of religion will soon have run out to its uttermost limit. If Italy in some of her cities be burdened with priests who have not the care of souls, but live upon the fruits of ancient foundations a life of disreputable idleness, she had better rid herself of a weight that will be sure to hamper her in the battle. The vices of priests are the stepping-stones of the revolution, and the ladder by which it will attempt to scale the citadel of the Church. We find now in Italian as was found in the Portuguese monasteries when a visitation was made at the instance of Don Miguel, just prior to the outbreak of the revolution, a relaxation of discipline which invariably leads to luxuriousness of living, and to the gradual decay of the monastic spirit. Many an Italian monastery is a mere assemblage of men wearing the monastic habit, indeed, but not animated with the monastic spirit, proud of their ancient order, yet without adding to its reputation, boasting of its learning yet not participating in its literary wealth. Monasteries that are not an honour to the Church are a scandal. They are judged by no common standard. The observance of the rule of their founder is the measure of their merit, is the criterion of their conduct. When they fall far below this high standard of excellence they are not a strength, but a weakness to the cause of religion. Their suppression is better than their continuance.

In the one country the most fatal success over the throne and the altar, over public and private virtue, attended the efforts of an impious liberalism, in the other the fearful issue of the revolution is still in the womb of futurity. How is Italy to avoid the fatal issue, how escape from the impending doom? To whom is she to look for deliverance? What hand shall seize her by the hairs of the head, and drag her back from the verge of the precipice?

Let none flatter themselves, or blind their judgment with the false hope that the revolution will rest content with constitutional gains of the Piedmontese monarchy, or even with the skeleton show of a reformed and false religion. The fragments it has torn from the social fabric will never satisfy the heart of anarchy; and impious un