that, dismissing the present, her thoughts glanced over those she had known abroad, and at last rested on one she had not seen nor heard of for eight years. Eight years before, Laurie had gone to Germany to study, and he was probably there yet. She recollected his face, more youthful than his years, and full of a dreamy beauty; the figure, tall and graceful, yet wanting somewhat in manly firmness. She heard again, in fancy, that changeful voice, so low, eager, and rich-toned when he was in earnest; she met again the glance of his sparkling blue eyes, full of frankness and enthusiasm. Where was he now?

Had he been a common acquaintance, she would have inquired concerning him freely; but he was a rejected lover, and she would not, by mentioning his name, remind people of that fact. Why had she rejected him? Simply because he had seemed to her not to reach her ideal. It had occurred to her since that time that possibly his manner and not his character had been at fault. At twenty years of age, she had been more mature than he at twenty-five. She liked an appearance of dignity and firmness, and had made the mistake often made by those older and wiser than herself, of thinking that dignity of soul must always be accompanied by a grave manner, and that an air occasionally or habitually demonstrative and variable, which is merely temperament, indicates a fickle or superficial mind. Some times, indeed, the strongest and most profound feelings, in reserved and sensitive persons, seek to veil themselves under an affectation of lightness or caprice, and the soul looks forth with a sad scorn through that flimsy mask on the hasty and egotistical judge who pronounces sentence against it.

"And you must love him, ere to you
He will seem worthy of your love,"

is true of some of the finest natures.

Miss Rothsay, during these eight years of her separation from Laurie, had more than once felt a misgiving on his account, lest she had done him injustice. Observing and studying the manners of those she met, she saw that what passed for dignity was sometimes only the distrustfulness of the suspicious, the caution of the worldly-wise, the unsympathizing coldness of the selfish, or the vanity of the conceited. She had lost not only her admiration, but her respect for that unchangeable loftiness which chills and awes the demonstrative into silence; and she had remembered, with a growing regret, Laurie's cordial ways, that seemed to expect friendliness and sympathy from all, and to appreciate the purity of his soul, that never looked for evil, and turned away from it when it intruded itself, and thus seemed scarcely aware that evil existed. Still she had been too deeply engrossed in her studies to give him much thought, and it was only now that she became conscious of regret.

Meantime, the organist had taken his place, and was arranging his music. The light of the lamp shone on a face wherein were exquisitely blended strength and refinement. One could see there passion purified by prayer, and enthusiasm too deep for trivial excitement. The face showed, too, when studied, that tranquil reserve, not without sadness, which is learned by those who have too often cast their pearls before swine, yet who do not despair of finding sympathy.

He placed the music, sat an instant in fixed recollection, as though he prayed, then lifted his tapering hands, so nervous, light, and powerful, and let them fall on the keys.

To the listener beyond the screen, it was as though her reverie had been broken by a burst of thunder. Then the sea rolled in its waves of sound, strong, steady, a long, overlapping rhythm. What did it mean, that fugue? Did it symbolize the swiftcoming assaults of evil that seek to drag the race of man downward, as the persistent sea eats away, grain by grain, the continents? Was it, perhaps, the ceaseless endeavor of the faithful will that, baffled once, returns ever to the charge, and dies triumphantly struggling? Did it indicate the generations of men flowing on in waves for ever, to break at the feet of God; or the hurrying centuries, cut short, at last, by eternity? However it might be interpreted, the music lifted and bore the listener on, and the silence that followed found her otherwhere than the last silence had left her. She was the same in nature, but her mood was higher; for music does not change the listener, it merely intensifies what is positive in his nature, whether it be good or bad, to its superlative degree.

Vibrating and breathless still with the emotion caused by that grand composition so grandly rendered, Miss Rothsay perceived a slip of paper on the cushion, and reached her hand for it. It proved to be a programme of the Recital. She glanced along the list, and read the name of the organist at the end-it was Duncan Laurie!

She heard, as in a dream, the softtoned Vorspiele that followed, and only came back to music when the third number, a toccata, began. But the music had now to her a new meaning. It seemed to triumph over and scorn her. She heard through that melodious thunder the voice of Nemesis.

But when the closing piece, a noble concerto by Handel, sang out,

it reproved that fancy of hers. There was no spirit of revenge nor mean triumph in Laurie's nature. The audience, small and select, went out quietly. The organist closed the instrument, and prepared to follow, yet waited a moment to recover full consciousness of the everyday world he was going to meet. The air seemed to puise about him still, and wings of flying melodies to brush his face. Never had he felt less inclined to meet idle compliment or talk commonplace. "I hope no one will wait for me," he muttered, going out into the vestibule.

But some one was waiting, a palefaced, lovely woman, who looked at him, but spoke not a word The look, too, was short; for when he exclaimed and reddened up to the eyes, and held out a trembling hand, her eyes dropped.

There is a commonplace which is but the veil to glory or delight, like Minerva in' her russet gown. The conventional questions that Laurie properly asked of the lady, as they walked on together, were of this sort. When did she come home? was as one should say, When did Joy arrive? When do the stars come? And the steamer that brought her could be as worthy of poetical contemplation as the cloud that wrapped a descending Juno, or the eagle that bore away a Ganymede.

Not long after, when some one asked them who was their favorite composer, each answered "Bach!" and, when alone together, each asked the other the reason for that answer.

"Because," said the lady, blushing, "it was on the waves of one of Bach's fugues that I reached the Happy Islands."

"And because," returned the lover, "when some of Bach's music had rolled back into the ocean, it left a pearl ashore for me."

REVOLUTION is a dangerous syren. The nations of the earth have yielded to her seductions, but the day is coming when with one voice they will curse the great enchantress who has lured them on to apostasy. For a century she has not ceased to announce an era of prosperity to the rising generation, but at length we see her promises are as deceptive as her principles are corrupt. From the heart of all nations rise up groans and maledictions against her teachings, and against her agents who have betrayed the hopes of their partisans, brought death instead of life, ruin instead of prosperity, and dishonor instead of glory. In a word, revolution is in a state of bankruptcy. This is not acknowledged by the politicians of the tiers-parti and their followers. They still continue to proclaim the sovereignty of the "immortal principles," declare revolution a success, celebrate its material and moral benefits, and boast that "real social justice was for the first time rendered in 1789"-after eighteen centuries of Christianity! But people are ceasing to be duped by any such political sophisms; they are beginning to regret profoundly the peace, order, and security, and all the benefits assured to the world by the supremacy of religion, and lost through social apostasy. The wisest of politicians are tired of revolutions. People who have lost their sacred heritage, and find themselves deprived of the highest blessings of life, are beginning to remember their baptismal engagements, and to feel the necessity of putting an end to revolution, and re

turning to the social order established of God. The prodigal son, famished with hunger, makes an energetic resolution: Surgam et ibo ad patrem! Hesitation is no longer possible. Weary of your modern theories, we will return to our Father's house-to Christ and his church!

The man who comprehended most thoroughly the Satanic nature of the revolutionary spirit-Count Joseph de Maistre-had an intuitive assurance of the calamities that would avenge the disregard of the laws of order, and lead future generations back to the sacred principles of their ancestors. The foresight and warnings of this eminent writer are well known. Addressing the French, he says: "Undeceive yourselves, at length, as to the lamentable theories that have disgraced our age. have already found out what the promulgators of these deplorable dogmas are, but the impression they have left is not yet effaced. In all your plans of creation and restoration you only leave out God, from whom they have alienated you. How has God punished this execrable delirium? He has punished it as he created light-by a single wordFiat!-and the political world has crumbled to atoms. . . If any one wishes to know the probable result of the revolution, they need only examine the point whereon all its factions are united. They all desire the degradation, yea, the utter subversion, not only of the monarchy, but of Christianity; whence it follows that all their efforts must finally end in the triumph of Christianity as well

as the monarchy."* In these few words the great philosopher gives us a complete history of the era of revolution in the past as well as the future. He declares it a widespread overturning of order, necessarily followed by terrible misfortunes, till a counter-stroke turns the nations back to the way appointed by God. †

While M. de Maistre was regarding the progress of events from the heights of his genius, he gave the most minute attention to the ravages of the revolutionary spirit in every department. In the Mélanges Inédits, for which we are indebted to Count Joseph's grandson, and which appeared on the very eve of our great disasters (1870), we find more than a hundred pages devoted to reviewing the benefits of the French Revolution. They contain an inventory drawn up by the aid of the republican papers of the time, in which the moral and material results of revolutionary barbarism are attested by the avowal of the barbarians themselves. A certain historian of the Revolution would have done well to examine this catalogue before officially undertaking, in the presence of the National Assembly, the awkward apology so generally known. And what if he had continued to verify the benefits of the revolutionary syren, still beloved of certain politicians, till the

Considérations sur la France, chapter x. et alibi passim.

+M de Maistre is sometimes quoted as taking different view; for example, in an article in the Correspondant for Nov. 10, Joseph de Maistre declared revolution an epoch and not an event. But this by no means signifies that the illustrious publicist meant that revolution was about to prevail. He says: "The French Revolution is an important epoch, and its manifold consequences will be felt far beyond the time of its outbreak and the limits of its original sphere.

If there is not a moral revolution through

out Europe, if the religious spirit is not strength

ened in this part of the world, the bonds of society will dissolve." The clergy of France, in particular, are called to "the essential work of reacting against the influence of the Goddess of Reason. See Considérations sur la France, chap. ii.

end of the year 1872? How glorious would be the balance-sheet of the "immortal principles" in the eighty-fourth year of their reign! Every Frenchman knows what it has cost to be the eldest son of the Revolution! As statistics are held in such high honor in our day, why not draw up the accounts of '89, and establish clearly the active and passive of the revolutionary spirit now spreading throughout the world?

We lay before our readers some notes that may be of service in this vast liquidation, taken from two valuable works that have been kindly brought to our notice.* We do not feel at liberty to designate the eminent person who wrote these Notes, which, if we are rightly informed, were first published in the Messager Russe. All we feel permitted to state is that we can place full confidence in the probity of this traveller. He belongs to the diplomatic corps, but unfortunately is not of the Catholic religion. We will let him testify for himself. It will at once be seen by the frequent quotations we shall make that he is a man of superior mind, decision and honesty of character, and of an upright and incorruptible conscience.

"Eleven years ago, I witnessed the foundation of the kingdom of Italy. I have just seen the work completed -the edifice crowned-Rome made the capital. My observations have been made in person, and are impartial, as I had no preconceived opinions. My numerous quotations are taken in a great measure from Italian sources, nay, even the most Italian. My position as an independent observer, unbiassed by any feeling of responsibility, enables me to judge events in a cooler manner

*Etudes sur l'Italie contemporaine, and Notes d'un Voyageur. Première Etude, June, 1871; Seconde Etude, July, 1872. Paris: Amyot.

than might be done by an opponent of the various publicists that have treated of the successive phases of the great Italian drama.”

Here, then, is contemporaneous Italy studied by an observer of incontestable impartiality-studied on the spot, and from authentic sources. It is by no means uncommon to hear the correspondents of Catholic journals accused of exaggeration. Certain newspapers under party influence, like the Journal des Débats and the Indépendance Belge, are paid to divert public attention from facts that cannot be denied. We are sure the ItaloParisian and the Italo-Belgian press will not say a single word about the Etudes sur l'Italie contemporaine. †

I.

How shall we characterize the Italian crisis as a whole? Is it merely one of those accidental revolutions which history is full of, or is it a genuine revolution with its systematic hatred of Christian society? Our readers must not be astonished at such a question. I know some Catholics a little too liberal, it is true-who have not thereon, even in these times, perfectly correct notions.

*Première Etude, p. 3.

+"Except the Univers, which has a correspondent at Rome, and keeps up constant communi

cations with that city in other ways, and, on the other side, the Journal des Débats, which is supplied with information by the Italian government, and, as we have been assured, receives a handsome subsidy for the patronage accorded, most of the French papers have no other source of supplying their readers with news than the conjectures, more or less unreliable, of the Havas agency, a succursale, as to what concerns Italy, of the Stefani agency at Florence. It is supposed, however, that nothing is easier than to obtain information about a country at our very doors."-M. Ed. Dulaurer, member of the Institute, "Impressions et Souvenirs de Rome," in the Gazette du Languedoc for Sept. 19. I take the liberty of recommending to M. Dulaurier, and all who wish to know the state of affairs in Italy, the valuable Correspondance de Genève. The Journal of Florence, recently combined with the Cattolica of Rome, affords instructive reading. Besides information peculiar to itself, this paper reproduces in each number interesting extracts from various Italian journals.

We remember certain unfortunate expressions respecting the governments of the ancien régime which committed the unpardonable fault of injur ing Italian liberty, and even respecting that venerable Christian administration that has been dragged through blood and fire. Did not the honorable M. Dulaurier recently confess in an ingenuous manner the illusions he was under before he set foot on Italian soil, and how he be lieved in the possibility of a reconcili ation between the Pope and the excommunicated king? He says he heard on all sides a sentiment to which he gave credence without much reflection: "Why interpose between the two parties contending for Rome? Pius IX. and Victor Emmanuel are both Italians: they will end by settling the difficulty, and

we shall trouble ourselves for no

thing." The reality, the sad reality, forces us to a different opinion.

It was a beautiful illusion-once greatly dwelt upon in official papers -to think Piedmont sincerely and uniquely preoccupied about the freedom of Italy; to believe in the Subalpine posture of disinterested chivalry, and in Napoleon III. going to war in a great cause merely for the glory of being a liberator. Doubtless there was, for some time, a lib eral party in Italy dreaming at once of a confederacy and of national independence. But Mazzinism and its ideas of unity prevailed, and it was manifest to those whose eyes were not blinded that the Piedmontese government superseded Giovane Italia by taking advantage of the naïveté of honest liberals. * All sin

"The French, under Napoleon I., introduced the idea of centralization into Italy and the code of the Revolution which the restored princes had the want of foresight to retain. The old municipalities were destroyed, and never recovered their former independence even in the States of the Church. Piedmont, of all the states of the Peninsula, was the longest under the poi