and feeble-forcible use of italics throughout the volume, which must be the production of an author without any faculties for the appreciation of the absurd. The book is an account of the birth, infancy, life, miracles, and death of the Lady Una, whose magic influence is recorded in its beginning. The whole affair is too ridiculous to issue from the shop of such sensible publishers as Messrs. Longman. FOREIGN LITERATURE. Histoire de la Littérature française sous la Restauration, par M. Alfred Nettement. 2 vols. 8vo, 10s. (Paris, J. Lecoffre.) Nothing is more characteristic of the modern French mind than its wonderful mastery over forms. Put a Frenchman down in the mazes of a Turkish town or in the chaos of the literature of a period, it is all one, in an incredibly short time the roads are all named, a clue is provided for the labyrinth, and the stranger has no need to ask his way, and runs in no danger of being bewildered. Whether the streets have the most apposite names given them, or whether the logical arrangement is the best or most philosophical, is not the question. To make a confused mass fall into any order at all is of itself (with us) a rare gift, though it is one of the first necessities of modern literature, which holds its vigils not in the library but on the road, and requires not the old six hours of daily study, but the waste time of a journey between London and Liverpool, between the suburban villa and the city counting-house. Whether the system of trenchant divisions and ticketed pigeon-holes is as favourable to truth as it is to clear views, is a question for afterconsideration; at present we have only to say that M. Nettement does worthily of his name, and anatomises his subject with a delicate and steady hand. After premising that the history of literature cannot be separated from that of the march of ideas during the same period, because it both acts on social opinions and is reacted upon by these opinions, he goes on to say that the march of ideas has passed through three phases since the sixteenth century,-private judgment, or the principle of doubt, has been successively applied to religion, to philosophy, and to politics; the first resulted in Protestantism, the second in free-thinking or infidelity, the third in revolution. Previously to the empire of Napoleon a reaction against this last mode of thought set in, which was led by three great writers, -Chateaubriand, De Maistre, and De Bonald; and though the emperor discouraged literary polemics, the field was ripening during his reign. After the restoration, the pent-up waters flooded forth, and produced a literature which will be always remarkable in the history of France. The author then reviews the chief writers of poetry-Lamartine, Victor Hugo, Delavigne, and Béranger; on politics and history-Guizot, Staël, Thiers, and Mignet; on religion-Frayssinous and Lamennais; and on philosophy, which he divides into the Catholic school, represented by De Maistre, Bonald, and Lamennais; the eclectic, by Cousin and his followers; and the Materialists and Sceptics, represented by Broussais, St. Simon, and Fourier. Then follows the revolution attempted by M. Villemain, and the success of the new school on the theatrical stage. The work concludes with a general summary, giving the author's appreciation of the intellectual calibre of the literature of this period. Though we do not always agree with his divisions, still less with his Legitimist tendencies, we cannot do otherwise than recommend the work, as affording an easy and satisfactory coup-d'œil over its subject from a Catholic point of view. THE RAMBLER. VOL. II. New Series. OCTOBER 1854. PART X. AN APPEAL TO THE CATHOLIC LAITY ON THE THE kindness of my fellow-Catholics will, I feel confident, exonerate me from the charge of presumption, if I take the liberty of laying before them some remarks suggested by the urgent necessities of the times. If it had seemed likely that the subject to which I am anxious to call their attention would be taken up by any person more entitled to speak than I am, I should not have ventured to intrude myself on their notice. Time hastens on, however; changes are taking place amongst us with unexampled rapidity, and introducing every day fresh sources of difficulty; and the conviction that, now or never, something must be done, seems to be nearly universal among reflecting persons. Still, whatever our private thoughts and plans, and however unanimous we may be in our judgment of what is demanded, no one has yet (I believe) publicly called attention to one of those great crying evils which it really is in our power to remedy, or pointed out the latent resources which we already have within reach. In the absence, therefore, of an appeal from any individual whose character and position would necessarily command attention and respect, I cannot longer refrain from respectfully laying before my fellow-laymen a few suggestions on the present crisis in the affairs of our Catholic poor. I have not, it is true, any thing that is new or unknown to offer to their observation. Perhaps, indeed, what I say will appear so obvious, that it will be thought quite needless to urge it on any person's attention. The facts of the day are of that character that few can have remained ignorant of their existence; and the practical plans which any Catholic would devise must necessarily be so nearly identical with what has been done a thousand times already, that the charm (or the fault) of novelty can never attach to them. It is, in fact, because VOL. II.-NEW SERIES. U I am only putting into shape what has occurred to many other minds, that I presume on addressing those who may possess an amount of knowledge, experience, and wisdom, to which I can lay no possible claim. Considering that the Church is now eighteen centuries old, and has passed through modifications of human society as varied as they have been numerous, it may be taken almost as an axiom that we can do nothing that is really new, and at the same time prudent; and that our wisdom and ingenuity must lie in the simple adaptation of what is old to the exigencies of the present hour. We cannot, then, conceal it from ourselves, that the spiritual and temporal necessities of our poor are such as far to exceed our present means, as hitherto organised, for meeting them. There is no need for mentioning in detail the various points in which we are in difficulties; for the fact is, we are beaten every where. It is not that we are unequal to the direct contest with the actual opponents of our religion, and the cruelest enemies of our poor; it is by circumstances that we are beaten. The events of the last few years have introduced a state of things which has taken us more or less unprepared; and notwithstanding the zeal of our clergy, the good feelings and liberality of our laity, the increase in our churches, the splendour of our services, and their adaptation to popular wants; notwithstanding the efforts made, in many instances with perfect success, for the education of the poor,-the fact stares us in the face, that the workstill undone is overwhelming; and that unless some fresh and unexpected instrumentality is speedily called in to our aid, the mischiefs that must befal the masses of our humbler fellow-Catholics are such as we must shrink from contemplating. It is Thus far I have but repeated what we may hear in every body's mouth who knows our condition, and possesses an ordinary share of Christian regard for his fellow-creatures. And the question instantly follows: "What can be done?" true that this question is usually asked in that tone of despondency which implies that we have nothing to do but fold our arms, sigh profoundly, and wait till something turns up in the chapter of accidents in our favour. Still, it cannot but be that there is something to be done; perhaps not vast, nor imposing, nor very rapid in its effects, but nevertheless a very genuine and practical work, requiring neither enthusiasm, nor elaborate organisation, nor (above all) money. I speak, of course, of the laity; for it is not my function to advise those who have a right to admonish me. Our clergy, however, have such an enormous amount of work, both present and prospective, before them, in the discharge of their ordinary and purely clerical duties, that it is impossible to expect from them any thing more than an encouragement and supervision of those other works of charity which may be fulfilled by the laity. Already, in every extensive mission, their powers are taxed to the uttermost,—often, indeed, beyond their strength, and beyond the point to which any man's energies, bodily or mental, ought to be taxed. But to our reproach it must be said, that a far different account is to be given of the efforts and sacrifices of us who are the laity, in the upper and middle classes of Catholic society. In saying this, I trust I shall not be understood as overlooking or undervaluing the pecuniary liberality which is so general amongst us, or the examples of patient devoted labour for the poor, which are undoubtedly to be met with in every part of the country. One must be blind indeed not to perceive how admirable is the spirit abroad among all ranks, or to refuse to recognise the devotion of large numbers of our body. If I do not specify particular instances, it is only lest in naming some cases I should seem to forget or cast a slur upon others which might not recur to the memory, or of which I might know nothing. With all this, however, it is undeniable that there are an immense number of the middle and upper classes who do little or nothing, whatever they may give, for the poor. Of these, many, no doubt, are prevented by personal circumstances from doing any thing. Want of health, leisure, or capacity, and the calls of business and family ties, not unfrequently paralyse the activity of those whose good-will is the warmest. Still, after every deduction on such scores as these, a large number of gentlemen and men of business remain, who are in every respect capable of taking a most profitable part in promoting the spiritual and general wellbeing of the poor of their respective neighbourhoods. Is not, then, the time come when it may fairly be expected from every such person that he make the sacrifice which is needed by the times? I cannot but hope that nothing is wanted to call forth all these latent resources into action, except the proposition of some definite, practicable, and undoubtedly useful object for our energies; and, difficult as it may be to suggest any thing which is at once desirable and feasible, I am convinced that one work, at least, may be undertaken with the happiest promise of success. In order to determine what is thus feasible and desirable, a glance at the circumstances of the day, and a fair estimate of what may be reasonably expected from a zealous layman, will be sufficient. Now, of all the wants of the poor, I suppose we may take it for granted that the most pressing is that of in struction, I mean, of course, of those wants which need a systematic and general assistance on the part of others. Other wants they have undoubtedly, often of the most urgent and overwhelming kind; but these are for the most part either confined to special localities, or varying in their pressure, or such as require a large expenditure of money. Every other want, however, is more or less created or aggravated by that destitution of the means of religious and secular instruction which is pre-eminently the character of our times; while the very existence of the Catholic poor, as Catholics, almost depends on a rapid and universal extension of the means of education in every large mission in the kingdom. To the increase in regular schools the attention of the Catholic body has for some time past been drawn by our bishops; the Poor-School Committee has for some time past earnestly laboured in the same cause, and strenuous endeavours are now being made to add to its funds and increase its influence. But with regular daily schools the laity, as a class, cannot have much to do, except in the way of contributing to their support. They must be conducted by paid masters and mistresses, or by professed religious, and by such alone. Supposing, however, that our daily schools were increased to a very large extent, both in number and efficiency, there yet remain immense numbers of our poor whom day-schools can never reach. These are on the whole of three classes: children who are occupied all day long during the week, but have some leisure in the evening; children whose only leisure is on Sundays; and that innumerable and utterly neglected class, our whole poor Catholic population between the age when they leave school and the time when they marry. For this last class,—that is, for all our poor, in the most critical period of life, at present we do nothing in the way of education. Those only who know the poor, both in this country and abroad, can tell the enormous mischief which follows from the want of a continuance of the guidance and instruction of childhood during the years between childhood and maturity. Yet I appeal to the experience of every reflecting man and woman as to the consequences which must result from such a neglect. What should we be if we were thrown upon the world, untaught and uncontrolled, at that very age when all the passions of our hearts were breaking forth in new fierceness, and when, more than at any other stage in our life, we had need of that enlightenment and instruction, without which our enemies would make us an easy prey? Who, I say, that has children of his own, could contemplate without alarm and horror the idea of their being suddenly emancipated from all |