poem addressed to his brother, which is entitled "The Service for the Dead, and a Visit to the Country Churchyard at our Birth-place." It is a genuine outburst of fraternal feeling, and although written in most elegant verse, shows the utter self-forgetfulness of a heart that has abandoned itself to the scene before it, and to the presentiment of approaching death. Amid these funereal forms, there comes into view the figure of a most sweet and Christian woman, an apparition from heaven, which the grave does but too speedily hide away from the childish vision, but which lingers still in memory to be the light of a whole lifetime. She was a peasant-woman of Brittany, his maternal grandmother, my own great-grandmother, who had already left the world when I entered it, but the charm of whose life was impressed upon my childhood, through the long stories, full of sober feeling, that my brother used to tell me.

"I see her still, devout and diligent,

In her old corner by the spacious hearth,
Where the dull fire flung out its flickering light,
From dawn to eve, spinning, and praying God.”*

A simple but exalted spirit, a strong, though gentle soul, that had passed through the storm of the revolution with her light in her hand, or rather in her heart, without suffering it either to flicker or die out, Madame Lesuc-permit my pen this once to rest upon her name-had bequeathed to her children far more than fortune or title; honest and vigorous blood, the faith of the Gospel, the virtues of family and Christian life.

*Toujours je crois la voir, pieuse et diligente,
Près du large foyer où brille un humble feu,
De l'aube jusqu'au soir filant et priant Dieu.

"Seeds of salvation, motherly words and tones,
Spring up, and cover all my life with fruit!
To her whose hand first sowed you in my heart,

I pause at this aspiration, which was my uncle's and is mine, and close, with no small emotion, the story of that religious festival which took place in the depth of a country province, at Château Gontier, sixty years ago, and which I meet again, celebrated with so much of solemnity and of popular interest in this capital, which may sometimes appear to forget its God, but never its dead. These bells of the second of November have tears on their brazen cheeks, and sobs in their tones; but as I listen to them, even while I write these lines, I seem to hear in them the echo of the voice of Patmos:

"I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me: write. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them."

BROTHER

HYACINTHE,

Barefooted Carmelite.

PARIS, November 2, 1868.

[All-Souls Day.]

*Salutaires leçons, préceptes maternels,

Croissez, et de vos fruits couvrez ma vie entière !
A celle dont la main vous sema la première,
Mon cœur a consacré des regrets immortels.

APPENDIX.

MEN AND PARTIES

IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN FRANCE,

JUST BEFORE THE ECUMENICAL COUNCIL, 1869.

[The following is part of an Article by the Rev. Edward de Pressensé, in the Revue Chrétienne for September and October, 1869. The author of it is the foremost man of French Protestantism-a man of acknowledged fairness and ability, and held in high esteem by his fellow-citizens of the Roman Catholic faith.]

*** It is important to bear in mind all along, that we are only just passed the coup d'état of December, when, with something of an explosion, a division took place in the Catholic camp. We have first a very original figure among the superior clergy; it is Monseigneur Dupanloup, bishop of Orleans. I know that for some years past he has been pardoned many of his old offences at Rome, in consideration of the impetuosity of his defence of the temporal power of the Pope. Always impetuous, of an effervescent temperament, with a quick, lively pen, he is a sort of Bohemian bishop, with a decided talent for controversy. The author of several approved works on education, he owes his reputation above all to his talent as a controversialist always in the breach. He has taken open issue with the Univers—seemingly, at first, on a merely literary question. A certain Abbé Gaume, since bishop, had taken it into his head to oppose classical studies,

He has always taken people refrained from the We shall see shortly that

under the signature of Ver Rongeur. M. Dupanloup, a man of culture, a prelate destined to become a member of the Académie Française, stigmatized this barbarous obscurantism, which, withal, is no part of the Roman traditions. sides with political liberty, so long as indiscretion of claiming it for Rome. the bishop of Orleans has verged very closely upon the party of violence, in the struggles of these last years. He is called something of a Gallican. It is pretty hard to see in what his Gallicanism consists. The Abbé Cœur, bishop of Troyes, since dead, Monseigneur Sibour, archbishop of Paris, who was struck by the dagger of an assassin at the very moment when he had instituted a prosecution against the Univers for its extravagant polemics, were men of like tendency.

Three men have especially made their mark in the LiberalCatholic party First, the two old disciples of Lamennais, the Abbé Lacordaire and M. de Montalembert. The first had revived the festivals of high eloquence under the vault of Notre Dame. It was all very well to hold him in suspicion and at some distance on account of his association with Lamennais; but no sooner had he uttered his voice in the little chapel of Stanislas college, than his superb eloquence rang through Paris after such a fashion, that there was nothing else to be done, in spite of the monstrous outcries of bigotry, but to put him into the pulpit of the metropolitan church. Every precaution was taken. He was required to communicate in advance the plans of his discourses, but once abandoned to the passion of his inspiration, the torrent carried everything before it, and they looked in vain, the next day, in the archbishop's chancery, to detect in the fiery improvisation of the orator any trace of the plan that had been submitted and approved. He skirted along perilous gulfs without ever falling into them; but the spirit which animated him was altogether modern and liberal.

His favorite enterprise of reviving the Dominican Order in France, is well known. But his white monk's robe made only one more contrast with his wholly unclerical manner of think

ing and speaking. His lectures at Notre Dame were open to serious criticism-the reasoning often bordered closely upon sophistry—more than once the logic is fanciful, and after all the essential elements of Catholic doctrine are preserved by him. But a glow of generous feeling pervades his whole discourse. Now and then it breaks out, and then the subdued, entranced audience feels that electric thrill which is the sign of true eloquence. On the very surface of his discourse there is always to be recognized an ardent love of liberty. On the day following the coup d'état, he expressed himself with such energy in a sermon preached at Paris, that all the pulpits of the city were thenceforth closed to the illustrious Dominican. His voice was never afterward heard, except in the addresses delivered at his reception into the Académie Française.

Since his death, which occurred in 1861, the public have been admitted to the secrets of his interior life. This brilliant orator, whose words stirred men's minds, sometimes, like those of a tribune of the people, was, in reality, a true monk in point of austerity. He subjected himself in secret to unheard-of macerations, which unquestionably shortened his life. He craved humiliation and suffering, and did not shrink before an asceticism which could hardly have been surpassed by a Hindoo fakeer. In his heart of hearts, Lacordaire suffered intensely from the inward struggle between the convictions of his youth, which responded to his deepest instincts, and his sincere but forced submission to the papacy. He profoundly felt that the spirit is above the letter, and that the inspirations which came forth from Rome were not those which animated either his soul or his speech.

M. de Montalembert was the worthy rival and the faithful friend of the great Dominican preacher.

By nature more excitable and impressible, he had more difficulty in ridding himself of the powerful ties which bound him to Lamennais; but then, for a time, the rupture was more radical. There has even been one phase in which he seemed to prefer the church above liberty. It was during the violent reaction which followed the revolution of 1848. The attitude which he held on