tions. His townsfolk, with much lamentation, brought the dead man to Xavier, who, taking him by the hand, at once restored him to life. Another case follows. A Christian woman came to Xavier, and requested him to go to her son who was dead. consents. Having knelt down and prayed to God, he purifies (lustrat) the body of the child by the sign of the cross. Immediately the child comes to life again, and is as strong and healthy as ever! The Christians who were present exclaim, "A miracle!" but Xavier beseeches them that they would tell no man, (rem uti silentio contegant.)

Not only did Xavier work all these and other miracles, but he also was no mean prophet. (Prophetiæ dono conspicuus. Multa post futura, multa longe remota prædixit, quæ humanitus sciri nullo pacto possent.) Several instances are related, which it is not worth while to detail.

After his death, his body lay covered with quick lime for the space of three months; at the end of which time, it was not in the least decayed; but, on the contrary, emitted the most fragrant odour. It was thence carried to "Malaca," and, to prove that the virtue of his sanctity had not deserted his dead body, no sooner did it reach the city, than a plague and famine, which had been some time raging, ceased. (Quo ut illatum est [mirum dictu] sæviens per eos dies pestilentia in urbe, famesque statim sedatur.) At Malaca" the body continued some months buried; and, being exhumed on its further progress to its destination at Goa, its aid, when supplicated by the sailors, was beneficially exerted. It was, at last, with much ceremony, committed to the earth, where its remaining free from all corruption to the present day, is no mean proof of the saint's chastity and virginity. (Ubi illæsum ab omni tabe hodieque persistens, non levi argumento indicat castimoniam viri, ac virginitatem.)

But this is not all; for the very service-book, and the rod of discipline (flagellum) used by Xavier, were endued with superhuman power. The former being a remedy of tried virtue, (expertæ virtutis remedium,) was highly prized. Many, who were suffering under severe illnesses, were healed by the book being placed upon their bodies. Especial care, also, was taken of the flagellum, which possessed the same power of restoring health, but which was to be used only on important occasions. The writer remarks, that he did not permit its use often, lest it should be worn away by constant use. (Nec enim sæpius permittebat ille, veritus ne usu nimio attritum absumeretur.) This precious instrument, it is affirmed, derived its power from the merits of F. Xavier.

I have thus glanced at the course of miracles stated to have been effected by this Jesuit, who, I do not mean to deny, was possessed of much zeal and many amiable qualities. From the

paper, in the magazine, to which I have alluded, it appears that Acosta was aware of these wonders in the East; he says, "they had been published." Now, as this volume which I have used was printed at Cologne some years before Acosta's book, it is not very improbable that he had seen these very statements. They were originally written in Spanish ; and contain a greal deal of interesting information on the eastern nations, besides details of missionary labours. There seems to be no hesitation in attributing to their missionaries and their religious offices, on all occasions, the working of miracles. These reports of their proceedings, written at the time to their superiors, and, with their authority, afterwards promulgated, are evidently rendered more palatable by the savoury narratives" which abound in them. They are now valuable to us as presenting full proof of the unalterable assumption of the church of Rome on all opportunities, and of the mode which was adopted to uphold her credit in the old world, by splendid announcements of the manifestations of her glory and her miracles in the new. These relations are not merely dreams, or what may be considered miraculosa, but actual and declared performances, such as no man can do who has not been "endued with power from on high!"

R. W. B.

THE MANOR HOUSE.

It

THE heat and oppression of many days in summer, or the tempestuous character of a lengthened winter, must make the English people often feel the inaptitude of their present domestic architecture to mitigate the inconveniences of either season; while it is impossible to be resident in mansions built three centuries ago, without enjoying the coolness of the shady quadrangular court in the time of summer, and feeling its protecting security during the inquietude and turbulence of the severer season. was during one of the most oppressive days of the late harvest, that I had numbered many painful steps in order to gain the presence of a thoughtful scholar, and to enjoy a morning's conversation with him, and with an acute and clever friend who, for the same purpose, had come from afar to visit him. But, like the pilgrim, from the fatigues of the Arabian desert, I arrived too much worn in body to present for a while any offerings on the shrine I had come to visit. While in that state of lassitude, in which the nerves were seeking to recover their tone of action, it was proposed to visit the village church, to which I gave a glad and instant acquiescence, knowing how restoring to all exhausted sensibilities

are the associations that usually gather about that sacred spot. I found myself, however, in some degree disappointed, by the presence of a modern chapel of Grecian simplicity, which gratified the taste without awakening strong and romantic feelings in the heart, producing rather the consciousness of an agreeable quietude than of that deep and established repose which the works and records of man excite when separated from us by long and dark intervals of time. It bore the aspect of what, in truth, it almost was the chapelry of the titled patriarch of the place, to whose abode it was closely adjoining. The rich shrubberies that skirted the church-yard were in the pleasure grounds of the park, and through them we approached the lordly manor house, whose general aspect recalled the days of ancestral dignity. Its porch of stone, ornamented with a shield of blazonry, led into a plain marble-paved hall, whose old and homely decorations and refreshing coolness were an instant contrast to the heat and brightness of the summer air without. Through an arched doorway we entered from thence into the quadrangle of the building, crossing which, another arched way, in the opposite side, led from the quadrangle into the many-terraced walks and gardens that surrounded this ancient dwelling. It was on the stone benches, that were built on each side the wall within this spacious porch, that we seated ourselves, enjoying the fragrant breezes that passed from the shrubs and flowers of the garden through the deep gateway, while every impression received from the spot led the mind to a feeling of security and privacy, of coolness and stillness, restoring the animal spirits to that thoughtful tranquillity so necessary to the enjoyment of easy and intellectual converse.

That was, I observed, a happy state of society when the builder of this mansion lived-a period when he was looked up to with obedient and filial attachment by the neighbouring poor, when the controul of his patriarchal character preserved a moral restraint among them, conferring the happiness arising from subordination and dependence so indispensable to the nature of man, both to preserve him from evil and to awaken and fix all his best feelings upon some object of respect and affection. The strong and living ties that in those days bound man to man with the chains of the heart, have been gradually weakened, and are now almost destroyed, and political economy has taken their place on the part of the rich, and a consequent hard and heartless astuteness on the part of the poor; and this condition of character is increased and strengthened in both by many well-known, and by some less suspected, causes. Among the latter it is possible may exist the sharp and too-intellectual system of our education, developing chiefly a shrewd and usurping spirit, by which the modest, docile dispositions of boyhood, full of submissive and

generous sympathies, are discouraged and injured by the preeminence given to quick and cunning spirits, on whom all praise and honour are conferred, to the gradual extinction of the gentler moral sensibilities among the people. Happy were the days when neither these nor the numerous other disturbing causes we now experience were at work to prevent the rich and the poor from cherishing in themselves, and keeping these their best affections in mutual exercise, as the magic band of strength and hap piness between them; and never happy, in my opinion, will either be, till, by retracing our steps, these sympathies can be regained and re-enjoyed.

"It can never be," exclaimed my acute friend. "Go backward to that state of the poor we cannot; forwards we must go, enlightening and instructing them in various knowledge, removing from them all this sense of a dark dependence, awakening them to trust only to themselves, to improve in every way by dexterity and activity their worldly possessions, so that they will find their interest in being good and loyal subjects, and in preserving order and stability in the state."

"I do not believe," said I, "that such methods will ever produce that result. When those living attachments are removed, how dreadful will be their heartless poverty if your scheme of independence does not universally prevail; and, if it should, the substituted love of property will never produce contentment; it is a mere principle of the horse-leach-give-give-give, till the heart, worldly and unaffectionate, a stranger to the joy of others, will soon heat into fever and discontent, murmuring for a more equal share in the goods of Mammon, or, for some other selfish end, bring about a violence and sudden spasm in society; and then man, by suffering, is driven back to poverty, and is told again to seek his happiness in mutual dependence and in love." "Indeed," said my friend, are we never then to go forward, and is the condition of human beings never to be bettered?"

"In truth," I replied, "it remains to be shewn in what the bettered condition of man really consists. According to the Scriptures it is not in his affections being drawn away from God and man, saying in his heart, I am, and there is none else beside me'-not in being intellectually instructed, for Christ (who came to improve our nature to the utmost, and knew it fully) nowhere recommends such a duty-not by confiding in a spirit of moneyed accumulation, for blessed are ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God,' (Luke vi.) And they who have known human nature under what, to political and sensual men, would be termed the wants and debasements of life, and have seen the soul happy in religion, the heart happy in the reciprocation of worldly benefits and benevolence, and the body happy in the cheerful serenity of health, have witnessed, I believe, a condition not casily to be

bettered-a condition too acceptable to God for him to permit the disturbing schemes of man to change and annihilate it. The frame of human society He has planned and fixed; and when man sets himself to re-arrange it, in order to contrive an escape from its duties, He will provide in his government that it quickly revert to its essential form the poor shall never cease out of the land, therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother,' (Deut.) In their unperverted state, every page of Scripture, and every day's experience, tell us that faith, benevolence, the plain-sightedness of true wisdom, and the simplicity of real happiness, are to be found. If men, indeed, place all their belief of perfection in riches, learning, or station, it is natural they should behold no beauty in a state so opposite to their own. But God seeth not as man seeth, and he will preserve from the meddling legislation of the world that condition of life which he ennobled beyond every other, by appearing and dwelling in it while on earth, and by selecting from it his friends and the teachers of his wisdom; and his guardian spirit will surely continue to protect from violation that misunderstood and despised estate on which, through his ministry, he bestowed his especial approval and applause."

"But I wish not," said my quick and friendly opponent," to remove religion from its proper influence among them; but would teach them rather to trust to its liberty and its independence—that they should fear God, and know no other fear.'

"I believe," said I," that a true fear and love of God would not exist long in the hard, barren, and rocky soil you have prepared for its reception. By removing the opportunities of reaching that nutritive support of a contented, humble, and affectionate state of heart, you would, I fear, prove only the truth of Scripture-that if man love not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God, whom he hath not seen.'"

Our friend, whom we had come to visit, here interfered, and remarked how true it was that man lived not by bread alone; for almost the whole of his happiness arose from the health of his religious, moral, and social condition. Those relationships, therefore, so necessary for the maintenance of his true and highest enjoyments, it should be the leading care of a nation to guard and cherish. Blessings similar to those you have mentioned, he said, as arising out of patriarchal protection, were found in the powerful and maternal fosterings of the church; for, in those days of her due influence and authority, she was a continual source of ennobling sentiment and happiness to the poor. From her hand charity was received without disgrace, for it came not as the blighted fruits of unwilling taxation, but in its heavenly and proper form, as a gift from God, and "so