Temples of Concord and Jupiter Tonans, that celebrated locality from which so many of Rome's greatest orators had addressed admiring thousands. Itwas manifest, from the expectant looks of the people, and the disposition to take up their positions upon the highest steps they could attain, that some spectacle had drawn them together. Every favourable spot for observation was now occupied by dense masses of people, when a little man came hurriedly up to the semicircular esplanade, which was raised in front of the Temple of Jupiter, forming the area where the rostra were placed. Touching the foot of a man who stood above him on the platform, the new-arrived addressed him in a breathless tone. "I beseech thee, by all the gods, dear Simo, give me thine hand that I may climb up beside thee." "Impossible, Fabius," said he who was thus earnestly entreated. Were I to stoop down to aid thee, I would lose my balance, and fall from my place; besides, there is not room here for a lizard." 66 Nay, but indeed thou must not desert me in this strait, Simo. I will not take much space, thou knowest, and I promise thee we shall have a cup of wine together when all is over. I will repay thee that thou lost to Thraso the other day, and with usance." This last argument was not without effect. Simo made shift to give the barber his hand, and with some difficulty and disturbance of his neighbours at both sides, who did not fail to vent their annoyance in that choice phraseology in which the Roman populace were adepts, the little man was hoisted up by the side of his friend. "How happens it, Fabius, that thou art so late to-day? It is not thy wont to be the last where aught is to be seen or heard." "Thou sayest true, Simo. I was just stepping out of my shop, a good half hour since, when one who would not be denied entered, and sitting down, forced me to shave his beard. But hast seen aught yet?" "Nothing: but tell me, what knowest thou of this matter?" "What know I? Much, my masters," for the little barber always made it a point to address himself to every one within hearing. "This Valentinus is one of the most obstinate of this Jewish sect, and, like his creed, bears no loyalty to Cæsar, or love to the gods. Not only did he refuse to do sacrifice to the gods, but he blasphemed and contemned them, and averred there was no God but he who raised the insurrection in Judea at the time of our Emperor Tiberius." 66 They are truly an arrogant sect, and disturbers of public tranquillity withal," said one of the group. " Ay,” responded another, "“'tis a malignant superstition; they hate mankind, and practise in secret loathsome rites. I have heard that they partake of Thyestean feasts, devouring young children and drinking their blood." "But you have not yet heard the strangest piece of this fellow's audacity," resumed the barber; "you all know, doubtless, how that it pleased the gods to give sight to the blind girl, Nerea, when she was lately praying in the Temple of the goddess Fortuna, hard by. Well, this Valentinus, hearing of the miracle, gives out that it was he wrought it through the power of his God. And he hath so bewitched the girl with his spells and potions, that she would not gainsay him, though it is alleged there were many witnesses present in the Temple when she was cured." 66 Hush," cried Simo, "here comes the Prefect's guard, they will pass us presently." As he spoke the eyes of all were turned in the direction in which he pointed. A strong guard of soldiers were seen moving eastward from the neighbourhood of the Mamertine prison. Presently they reached the spot where Fabius and his auditors were collected. In the midst of the company of soldiers walked one on whom all eyes were fixed. A man about the prime of life, and of the middle stature. His bared head was erect, and the brown hair fell adown it in light curls; his full blue eyes were turned slightly towards heaven, as in contemplation of things beyond the earth. Full of sweetness and love was his whole countenance, and there played around it a soft and almost radiant expression, which resembled less a smile than the influence of some rapturous feeling. Firmly and calmly he walked along, and when the shouts and revilings of the brutal populace from time to time assailed him, he looked up at his persecutors with unperturbed eyes, that had more of pity than of anger in their placid survey. ecution. The band of soldiers, with their prisoner, moved slowly onwards through the crowds that pressed upon them on every side, and winding along the south-eastern base of the Capitoline Hill, they passed the forums of Augustus Nerva and Trajan, and through the ancient wall of the city, built by Servius Tullius, into the Flaminian Way. The populace in the forums, as soon as the party had passed, rushed forward by various ways, through the Campus Martius, to gain the Flaminian Gate, and the whole of that long road, which now forms the magnificent street of the Corso, was lined with a dense mass of human beings, as Valentine and his guards passed along. At length they reached the gate in the walls of Honorius and Valerian, which then formed the northern boundary of the city, and passed into the open space beyond it. Here was the spot upon which preparation had been made for carrying into execution the sentence against the Christian. Being placed in the midst, the Præfect of the city came forward, and, for the last time, put to him the question which was to decide his fate, for it was the established custom, even at the last moment, to remit the sentence, if the condemned renounced his faith and sacrificed to the gods. Valentinus, art thou a Christian ?" And Valentine said "I am." Then the Prefect again addressed him, and said : "Wilt thou renounce Christ, and swear by the name of Cæsar?—wilt thou do sacrifice to the gods?" Whereupon Valentine replied: "Thy gods are the work of men's hands, and thy religion the device of their corrupt hearts. There is no god but the God whom Christians serve." At a sign from the Prefect two men came forward, and they stripped Valentine of his outward robe, so that he stood in his tunic. At this moment an old soldier from behind touched him, and said softly: 66 Courage, Valentine. Be strong in the Lord." The face of the priest beamed with joyful alacrity as he recognised the voice of Callistus." "Dominus illuminatio mea," cried he, looking up. "The Lord is my light in this hour of my trial with the powers of darkness. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help. In him have I put my trust; I will not be afraid what man can do unto me." The soldiers were then proceeding to tie a bandage around his eyes; but Valentine said gently: "Suffer me to depart with unmuffled sight. I would willingly look my last upon the heavens." The men, apparently moved by his entreaty, looked towards the Prefect, who suffered his request to be granted, being contented that his hands should be bound. While this was doing, the Christian priest seemed to lose sight of the things around him, and to be absorbed wholly in spiritual contemplation. His eyes were intently fixed on the bright sky, to the eastward, and his lips moved with words which the multitude understood not. But one there was nigh at hand, who knew them, and rejoiced in the midst of the trial of his brother, as he heard these ejaculations : "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? "In all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us. "Neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Callistus bowed his head in resignation and hope. "Father," sighed he, "not our will, but thine, be done." A swaying of the multitude, and a shout, caused him to look up; and the headless and bleeding trunk of the martyr, Valentine, lay before him! "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." The blood of God's saints was not shed in vain on the soil of pagan Rome. Scarce a century elapsed before a Church, bearing his name, stood on the spot where Valentine had suffered; and in later time, another was erected to his memory, near the Ponte Molo; and when Christian emperors swayed the Roman sceptre, the Flaminian Way and Gate, through which the saint passed to his martyrdom, were known as the Via and the Porta Valentiniana. The stranger who now visits Rome may wander over the scene of our story; yet how changed its aspect and fortunes! He can enter through the magnificent gate, the "Porta del Popolo," which the genius of Canina has constructed, and pass down through the palaces that line the Corso on either side. He may wander through her forums; but he will look in vain for the living grandeur of the imperial city --" tra l' erbe Cercando i grandi avanzi e le superbe Her temples are prostrate; her palaces unroofed and in ruins; her arches and columns defaced and broken. All so changed that the antiquarian pauses often in doubt, amidst the lonely and half-unburied ruins around, before he will venture to pronounce to what temple belong the still beautiful shafts that meet his eye, or fix the spot where the citizens met in their assembly, or the orators pleaded for their clients. Yet over the pagan ruins and the pagan memories rise on every side the Christian shrines. Many a cross is now planted, and many a pilgrim prays in the area of that circus which drank the blood of Christ's saints, as it flowed in rivers on its stones. And if the memory of Valentine arise to the mind, as the visiter lingers near the Roman Forum, let him turn his footsteps to the Church of San Pietro, in Carcere, and he will be shown the Mamertine prison, with some of its steps still remaining; and lower still, the cell where Paul lay in chains, and Valentine made converts. "Well," said the Parson, laying down the paper, "what do you think of it Jonathan?" "I protest," said I, "I am the worst judge in the world of such matters. I presume there is a great deal in it for which no authority can be adduced." Very likely there is," replied the Parson, "but that does not appear to me to furnish any valid objection to it. There is nothing contradictory either to history or tradition in it." Are you sure of that?" said I. Bishop?" "For instance, was not Saint Valentine a "There was, no doubt, an African Bishop of that name, but he who suffered martyrdom in Rome had not attained to that rank in the Church. I admit, he is called a Bishop in some of the modern calendars, but the ancient historians of the Church, and all the martyrologies which I have been able to consult, call him simply Presbyter.' In that case, I have nothing to say against the tale, on the score of historical correctness. Will you lend me the manuscript ?” "Certainly, but for what purpose?" "Why, I have a friend in town on whose judgment I place great reliance. I wish to have his opinion." "Who is that Jonathan?" "Mr. Poplar." "Good; but will he keep it to himself? I would not have the poor boy's composition scanned and criticised by your city literati." "I must confess he has a most unjustifiable habit of making public anything that hits his fancy." The Parson mused for a moment, as if undecided, at length he said: :"Well be it so, Jonathan: send it to him, and let it take its fate. Poor Somers is now beyond the reach of earthly criticism. And so, dear Anthony, I took the packet and commit it to your tender mercies. At all events, it will serve to remind you of me. Ever my dear Anthony, Lovingly thine, JONATHAN FREKE SLINGSBY. A VALENTINE. TO MY DAUGHTER "MURILLO," FOURTEEN MONTHS OLD. Little darling daughter mine, Ah! I know the powers malign And that you prefer to banter, Now and then, with Tam O'Shanter, Or with that beauteous brown and brawny Leathery Indian doll, The Tawney. Than with me. My day is o'er: You clap your hands but for Tom Moore Our old friend " Sancho with the Duchess." Be kind, at least, to this poor task: Laugh at my rhyme in sportive mood, *The above recondite allusions in italics, referring merely to little Eleusinian mysteries of the nursery and parlour, like much of the wit of Aristophanes, must ever remain a puzzle to the critics. February 14, 1851. Darling, thy mother sends to thee THE PAPAL AGGRESSION.-VINDICIE ANGLICANÆ.* Ir the degree of public attention attracted by a measure were any security for its excellence, Lord John Russell's Bill should be a model of legislative perfection. Its subject has for some months occupied a large portion of every newspaper in the kingdom; it has been considered in a lengthened parliamentary debate, and has afforded the text of no small number of published letters and pamphlets. It is not intended in these few pages to enter at large into a discussion with which, under such circumstances, most readers must be familiar, if not weary; but the small volume, of which the title is given below, is selected from the mass of these publications, as having higher claims to attention than most others, and containing matter peculiarly appropriate to the stage at which the question now stands. The leading feature of the Papal aggression is the Pope's Bull of the 29th of September last. It assumes, by the power of the Pope, to parcel out England into dioceses, and to provide a system of Church government for the country and all its inhabitants, under his absolute control, abolishing all previous inconsistent ecclesiastical customs. Prior to this he had changed the usual course of appointing Irish Roman Catholic bishops, by nominating Dr. Cullen to the titular primacy, and since September he has issued a new Bull, creating a new diocese in Ireland. The object of all this is stated to be to perfect the Roman Catholic Church establishment, and give it increased unity and power of action in the United Kingdom. Since Dr. Cullen's appointment he has held one synod in Ireland. The House of Commons has, by an overwhelming majority, decided that some law is to be made to meet this aggression. Most of the speaking and writing has been as yet devoted to this first step; and in looking back upon it one cannot fail to be struck with the paucity of arguments urged against the decision to which the House has come. They were, in fact, but these two-that the measures of the Pope and their consequences were purely religious, and any restriction upon them would be an interference with that perfect religious liberty long since conceded, and indeed guaranteed, to Roman Catholics, in common with all other British subjects; and that, even if it were possible to detect in them an encroachment on the temporal power, the attack was from a potentate too insignificant as a worldly prince to affect such an empire as the British. It was possible to argue the question on other grounds, and to have defended the Pope's Bull. This was hardly attempted in the House of Commons. There, those who wished for the progress of ultramontane opi * "Vindicia Anglicana.-England's Right against Papal Wrong; being an Attempt to suggest the Legislation by which it ought to be asserted. By One 'who has sworn faithfully and truly to advise the Queen."" London: Seeleys. 1851. |