the fresh air, and run about the fields, which I am not strong enough to do. Why did you not bring home Mr. Titbottom to tea? He is so lonely, and looks so sad. I am sure he has very little comfort in this life," said my thoughtful Prue, as she called Jane to set the tea-table.

"But he has a good deal of comfort in Spain, Prue," answered I.

"When was Mr. Titbottom in Spain ?" inquired my wife.

"Why, he is there more than half the time," I replied.

Prue looked quietly at me, and smiled. "I see it has done you good to breathe the country air," said she. Jane, get some of the blackberry jam, and call Adoniram and the children."

So we went in to tea. We eat in the back parlor, for our little house and limited means do not allow us to have things upon the Spanish scale. It is better than a sermon to hear my wife Prue talk to the children; and when she speaks to me, it does seem sweeter than the singing; at least, such as we have in our church. I am very happy.

Yet I dream my dreams, and attend to my castles in Spain. I have so much property there, that I could not, in conscience, neglect it. All the years of my youth, and the hopes of my manhood, are stored away, like precious stones, in the vaults; and I know that I shall find every thing convenient, elegant, and splendid, when I come into possession. As the years go by, I am not conscious that my interest diminishes. If I see that age is subtly sifting his snow in the dark hair of my Prue, I smile, contented, for her hair, dark and heavy as when I first saw it, is all carefully treasured at my castles in Spain. If I feel her arm more heavily leaning upon mine, as we walk around the squares, I press it closely to my side, for I know that the easy grace of her youth's motion will be restored by the elixir of that Spanish air. If her voice sometimes falls less clearly from her lips, it is no less sweet to me, for the music of her voice's prime fills, freshly as ever, those Spanish halls. If the light I loved fades a little from her eyes, I know that the glances she gave me in our youth are the eternal sunshine of my castles in Spain. I defy time and change. Each year laid upon our heads, is a hand of blessing. I have no doubt that I shall find the shortest route to my possessions as soon as need be. Perhaps, when Adoniram is married, we will all go out to one of my castles to pass the honey-moon.

Ah! if the true history of Spain could be written, what a book were there! The most purely romantic ruin in the world

is the Alhambra. But of the myriad castles, more spacious and splendid than any possible Alhambra, and for ever unruined, no towers are distinctly visible, no pictures have been painted, and only a few ecstatic songs have been sung. The pleasure-dome of Kubla Khan, which Coleridge saw in Xanadu (a province with which I am not familiar), and a fine Castle of Indolence belonging to Thomson, and the palace of art which Mr. Tennyson built as "a lordly pleasure-house” for his soul; are among the best statistical accounts of those Spanish estates. Turner, too, has done for them much the same service that Owen Jones has done for the Alhambra. In the vignette to Moore's Epicurean you will find represented one of the most extensive castles in Spain; and there are several exquisite studies from others, by the same artist, published in Rogers' Italy.

But I confess that I do not recognize any of these as mine, and that fact makes me prouder of my property, for, if there be such boundless variety of magnificence in the aspect and exterior, imagine the life that is led there, a life not unworthy the places. If Adoniram should be married within a reasonable time, and we should make up that little family party to go out, I have considered already what society I should ask to meet the bride. Jephthah's daughter and the Chevalier Bayard, I should say and fair Rosamond with Dean Swift-King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba would come over, I think, from his famous castle-Shakspeare and his friend the Marquis of Southampton might come in a galley with Cleopatra; and, if any guest were offended by her presence, he should devote himself to the fair one with golden locks. Mephistophiles is not disagreeable, and is exceedingly well-bred in society, I am told; and he should come tête-à-tête with Mrs. Rawdon Crawley. Spenser should escort his Faerie Queen, who would preside at the tea-table. Mr. Samuel Weller I should ask as Lord of Misrule, and Dr. Johnson as the Abbot of Unreason. I would suggest to Major Dobbin to accompany Mrs. Fry; Alcibiades would bring Homer and Plato in his purple-sailed galley; and I would have Aspasia, Ninon de l'Enclos and Mrs. Battle, to make up a table of whist with Queen Elizabeth. I shall order a seat placed in the oratory for Lady Jane Grey and Joan of Arc. I shall invite General Washington to bring some of the choicest segars from his plantation for Sir Walter Raleigh; and Chaucer, Browning, and Walter Savage Landor, should talk with Goethe, who is to bring Tasso on one arm and Iphigenia on the other. Dante

and Mr. Carlyle would prefer, I suppose, to go down into the dark vaults under the castle. The Man in the Moon, the old Harry, and William of the Wisp would be valuable additions, and the sweet singer Tennyson might compose an official ode upon the occasion: or I would ask "they" to say all about it.

Of course there are many other guests whose names I do not at the moment recall. But I should ask, first of all, Miles Coverdale, who knows every thing about these places and this society, for he was at Blithedale, and he has described select party" which he attended at a castle in the air.

a

Prue has not yet looked over the list. In fact I am not quite sure that she knows my intention. For I wish to surprise her, and I think it would be generous to ask Bourne to lead her out in the bridal quadrille. I think that I shall try the first waltz with the girl I sometimes seem to see in my fairest castle, but whom I very vaguely remember; Titbottom will

come with old Burton and Jaques. But I have not prepared half my invitations. Do you not guess it, seeing that I did not name, first of all, Elia, who assisted at the Rejoicings upon the new-year's coming of age?"

And yet, if Adoniram should never marry?-or if we could not get to Spain? -or if the company would not come? What then? Shall I betray a secret? I have already entertained this party in my humble little parlor at home; and Prue presided as serenely as Semiramis over her court! Have I not said that I defy Time, and shall space hope to daunt me? I keep books by day, but by night books keep me. They leave me to dreams and reveries. Shall I confess, that sometimes when I have been sitting, reading to my Prue, Cymbeline, perhaps, or a Canterbury tale, I have seemed to see clearly before me the broad highway to my castles in Spain; and as she looked up from her work, and smiled in sympathy, I have even fancied that I was already there.

SOME months after taking up my quarters in the Imperial College, I was summoned to a little town on the borders of France, where the French fathers, then refugees, had a little college. Pasages, for so is the place called, is a queer nook at the mouth of the Bidassoa, not far from San Sebastian: our college stood a little beyond the town on a precipitous bluff which towered above the road. a singular privilege, the origin of which I did not find time to explore, albeit given much to such investigation, every man of the mighty town of Pasages is a nobleman. We learned this in a curious way to our great amusement.

By

A lock was

out of order in the college and a lay brother was sent with it to a locksmith. Several days passed and the mechanic never appeared; and at last at the end of a couple of weeks, our lay brother started out to find the why and the wherefore. On arriving at the shop, he asked whether the lock was done. Done! yes, done this week and more. Why then did you not bring it to the college? Up started the Spaniard in a fury. Drawing himself to his full height, he crossed his arms, and in a tone and manner that would have done honor to the immortal knight of La

Mancha, he exclaimed-What! a nobleman of Los Pasages carry your lock through the streets? Take it yourself or it lies there till doomsday! Though ready to burst with laughter the lay brother kept his countenance, mollified his man, and not being a nobleman, brought the lock home himself. Other tradesfolk stood on the same point of etiquette.

On my way to this place I stopped at Loyola, the birthplace of the founder of the society. The little house in which he was born is inclosed in a church and contains a silver statue of the Saint of the size of life. Like most silver statues it was darkened by age and by no means striking the metal was thin and it was probably owing to these facts that it had so long escaped.

Soon after arriving at Pasages, troubles began at Spain, and groups of men, passing beneath our window, would raise the fierce cry of "Mueran los frailes." It was soon evident that our stay could not be permanent. We were intrudersFrenchmen. To relieve itself from odium, the government ordered the college to be closed; it was done summarily, and all carried off in haste. The scholars who

belonged in the country were allowed to return home, the rest with the religious carried to the frontier. Claiming the right of an American citizen, I protested against being carried to France, and was allowed, some days before the suppression, to return to Madrid. This enabled me to serve my companions greatly; several papers of importance and letters were confided to me, and I now alone proceeded to the capital. Spain was already in a fever of political agitation; civil war had broken out; the cholera was sweeping over the land: Madrid was like a city besieged, and as I threaded the streets, early in the morning of the 17th of July, I foresaw scenes of terror. The cry of mueran los frailes, sounded in my ears at every step. The people had become convinced that the fountains had been poisoned by the Jesuits. Groups of men collected on all sides, but when I reached the college, and was again welcomed by my companions. I forgot my foreboding, so calm and tranquil were they all. Nevertheless, I told the superior frankly the result of my observation ; but all deemed the charge too absurd for even a mob to act upon. Towards three o'clock, I was standing by one of the seminary windows, when the noise of a multitude, like the distant roar of Niagara, came rolling through the streets that opened on the square. Garnier, Dumont, and Barrau, were near me; they were all prefects on duty at the moment: they saw in an instant that death was before them, and hastened back to their posts. We never met again. As they disappeared I looked out, the crowd had reached the doors; frightful yells rose on every side as they found the entrance closed. National guards led on the mob, and under their axes the doors soon fell. All was now consternation; accustomed to obey, the devoted Jesuits soon assembled at the voice of their superiors. Those in the college retired to the private chapel; those in the seminary assembled with the boys in the saloon. Hither rushed the crowd hurrying me along, for, unrecognized in my travelling dress, I had unconsciously saved myself from instant death. As the mob burst into the room, the children were seized with terror at the sight of the furious men and the bristling bayonets, but they sought the teachers, not the scholars. In a moment Calidonio fell pierced through and through with a bayonet; Barrau, whom I loved as a brother, and whom I was struggling to reach, was stabbed to the heart, and his blood gushed in my very face; poor brother Fernandez received a sabre stroke intended to cleave open his head, which,

however, cut away his ear and left cheek; then knocked down, he was saved from being trampled to death, dragged out along the streets, and hewn to pieces.

The

Horror-struck I rushed from the room to the street; some were endeavoring to escape, a volley rattled by me, and in the very door three fell dead. Fourteen Jesuits had now been massacred, and not one would have escaped but for the devotedness of the noble-hearted John Gregory Muñoz. This Jesuit was a brother of the husband of Queen Christina. chief of the Descamisados hurried to the chapel, and called Muñoz to the door. "Quick," he cried, "I have come to save your life I owe mine to your brother." "These Jesuits," says Muñoz, "are my brethren, with them I remain, their fate shall be mine: you must save them with me or I die with them." Firm in his resolve, he soon showed the mob leader that persuasion was useless: the chief gave the word, and the slaughter stopped: so well was it organized. It was not, however, till evening that troops arrived to restore calm. That night we laid out the bodies of our murdered brethren in our pillaged house, and endeavored to restore some order in the confusion that reigned around us. At daybreak, masses were offered for them, and the bodies privately interred. For a time all was kept closed, and the superiors began to deliberate as to the future. At last it was resolved to dispatch me to France to arrange some method for their entrance there, as a longer stay in any considerable numbers in Spain had become too dangerous. Civil war was now raging, Rodil had declared himself our enemy, Zumalacarreguy was not yet triumphant. At Pampeluna two others joined me, at Loyola a fourth, and we now made for a little village not far from Los Pasages, and near the French border here a trusty friend was to take us in his fishing bark to St. Jean de Luz. We arranged matters so as to pass by night the places where we were known, but, by treachery or mistake, the peasant in whose wagon we came, left us almost at the village of Pasages. That village was now occupied by some Christinist troops, and when morning came, we beheld our position with dismay. guide was gone; but fortunately a heavy storm came on; under cover of this, we struck across to a village, two leagues south of Pasages, and here, after a long delay, we procured another wagon, and late in the afternoon reached our fishing viHage. Despairing of our arrival, our friend had already sailed, but, fortunately, our treacherous guide had overshot

Our

his mark. On leaving us, he had hastened to San Sebastian, and a cruiser was soon off the coast to overhaul us, and a party of soldiers sent by land to intercept us. Our course had baffled the latter, and finding no trace of us, they returned to snug quarters at San Sebastian. We now beheld our friend. Azpilcueta, pursued by the cruiser. His little bark was well known for speed, and had many a time run in a contraband cargo almost in sight of the officers. She now held her own all eyes were eagerly turned to the spot where they appeared, and several boats put out from shore. A sudden thought struck me. A good fisherman hard by, had a little craft, large enough to stand the sea: I asked him at once to take us over. "You will have to man her yourselves, then,” he replied. "Any thing you like," I replied. In a moment we pushed her off, and steered towards the government vessel, which was now gradually gaining on Azpilcueta. "Now for the French coast," said the fisherman, when near enough to distinguish the captain of the cruiser, and we tacked. Far enough from the shore to fear no pursuit, we were driving merrily on, when a ball splashing by us, told us that the cruiser, after overhauling Azpilcueta, was in pursuit of us. suring the distance, I resolved to haul to. To our joy, the cruiser, satisfied with this mark of obedience, changed her course. Beating around for an hour or more, we gradually neared Azpilcueta, and at last stood on his deck. Grasping the hand of our good friend, we parted, and in a short time reached France. My American passport, viséd at Madrid for France, stood the test; our strange mode of entry from a country in a state of civil war, excited no surprise, and we all proceeded to Paris.

Mea

Occupied for some time now in the affairs of the Spanish province, which became more complicated by the final expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain, I devoted my leisure to a study of the far-famed constitutions of the order, and may here give some idea of its principles and operation.

After two years novitiate, simple or scholastic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience are pronounced, by which they become real, though not professed religious. These vows are not solemn, and can be dissolved at any moment by the society, though not by the scholastic, such are the terms of admission.

At any

period after ten years from the emission of these first vows, the final ones are taken. If the scholastic has passed successfully through his long course of theology, and no objection is made on any score, he is made a professed Father, and

takes the three solemn vows, with a fourth of obedience to the Pope, regarding the missions. The professed form the body of the Society proper, their houses can possess no revenue, and they themselves are bound by oath to aspire to no post of honor or prelacy, and to take no steps to obtain a modification of the vow of poverty. Those not deemed sufficiently capable for this degree, take three solemn vows, and are termed Spiritual Coadjutors formed. Some few of higher merit are made "Professed of three vows," but their number is very rare.

The society then consists of Professed, Spiritual Coadjutors formed, Spiritual Coadjutors not formed-that is, priests bound by simple vows, and not yet promoted; Scholastics, bound by simple vows, but not ordained priests; and Lay Brothers, or Temporal Coadjutors. The novices are either priests, scholastics or lay brothers.

The professed and spiritual coadjutors are, of course, all priests, and employed in the ministry like other priests in the Catholic church. Many are missionaries among the heathen in China, India, Madagascar, Syria, Algiers, in Oceanica, and among the Indian tribes, in North and South America. Others give missions or retreats chiefly to the rural population, in Catholic countries. These missions will last for a week or more at a time, and sermons are preached several times a day, instructions given, and a spirit of religion revived. The confessionals are then thronged, abuses checked, scandals removed, enemies reconciled, and great good effected. From them Wesley derived the idea of revivals and camp-meetings, which have made his church so popular with the working classes.

The scholastics are employed either in study or in teaching, the latter labor being shared by some of the priests. The lay brothers are employed in the service of the community, as sacristans, cooks, wardrobe keepers, porters, or at their trades, as tailors, shoemakers, carpenters and the like, when needed in the house. No distinction exists between any of the grades, as to food, dress, or mode of life; none is inferior to another, all dine at the same table, they wait on each other in turn, for the lay brother is not a servant.

Like every other religious order, the Society of Jesus is divided into provinces, a country often containing several; besides these there are missions dependent on the provinces. Each province is governed by a Provincial. who must be a Professed Father; he is appointed by the General, and holds his office for three years. Every year he must visit every house and college of the order in his province, and see that

the rules have been observed. The General also appoints an Admonitor and several Consultors, who form the council of the Provincial, and whose advice he is bound to take on all important matters, although in case of a difference of opinion, he is free to act independently, responsible for the course he may pursue.

Each college has its Rector, each house a Superior, who is similarly appointed, and may be either a spiritual coadjutor, or a professed.

On

The professed of each province assemble from time to time, and elect deputies or procurators, who procced to Rome and form a kind of deliberative council. the death of a general, a similar provincial congregation is held, which elects two delegates. These and the provincial proceed to Rome, and form a general congregation. This body elects a general, who holds his office for life, an admonitor, and several assistants. The person elected general cannot decline the office, and must reside at Rome: the assistants are his cabinet, and in case he violates the constitution, they may convoke a general congregation to depose him and elect another; or, in case of urgency, they may depose him without waiting for the congregation to assemble.

Such is the framework of the government. In the superior offices, permanence; in the inferior posts, rotation in office the higher offices elective, the lower in the hands of the general. The members are all bound by the vow of obedience, and sacrifice personal liberty; but of this I never heard one complain. They are exempt from all care as to food, house, and clothing, and, in return, can leave their posts only by permission. In this,

indeed, they do not much differ from employées in any department, civil, military, or merely mercantile. The régime of a military school is, perhaps, to one not acquainted with monastic life, the nearest approach to that of the order in question. And certainly no cadet at West Point excites commiseration, except, perhaps, from a doting mother, who cannot realize his position. The esprit du corps, in both cases, makes the sacrifice actually unfelt.

At Paris an epileptic fit seized me. Twice before had I fallen under them. As none can be ordained priest in the Catholic Church who is thus afflicted, my ordination had been deferred, in hopes that I would outgrow the malady. The excitement of my life in Spain had doubtless produced a relapse, and there was little prospect of my ever attaining the priesthood. Still the life of a Jesuit pleased me, and to leave it in the moment of its

adversity, seemed to me dishonorable. I resolved to remain. A few Spanish fathers determined to try and found a mission in Buenos Ayres. I asked and obtained leave to join them. We soon sailed and touched at Rio, where some of our fathers were, all friends of mine in other days; we at last reached Buenos Ayres, and began our labors. As a matter of course, one of my first objects was, under some pretext, to reach the site of the famous Paraguay missions. With Lopez I reached that ground, so illustrious in missionary annals. Alas! it was deserted. Ruins of towns alone showed its former prosperity. Church, court-house, and dwelling, alike lay in ruins, fast crumbling to decay. The supposed mines whence the Jesuits drew their exhaustless treasures, were never discovered, and mineralogy now laughs at the pretended science of those who discovered auriferous veins in the rock of that section. The Jesuits had been the soul of the Reductions: deprived of their soul, they became lifeless and sunk in death. The wild Indian of the plains, like the Seminole of Florida, tells of his Christian forefathers and his European oppressors, but scarce a trace of Christianity remains among them. My labors began as a teacher in the college of Buenos Ayres, but my health gave way. Convinced, at last, that nothing but my native air could restore me, or anxious perhaps to die amid my own, I resolved to leave the order. Permission was given as soon as asked, and, after a few days delay I bid adieu to my old companions, and sailed for New-York.

Like the Chinese prisoner in the story, released after a long captivity, all seemed strange. The friends of my childhood were gone; other thoughts, ideas, habits, now foreign to me, made me a stranger in my own land.

To the period of my life spent among the Jesuits, I look back with pleasure. Many of the members are my congenial friends, and letters, ever and anon, come from some of them in China or Turkey, Chili, or Rome, full of friendship, interest, and learning. Some things in their order never pleased me, some I did not approve, but be they as they are, I am no reformer. They are a peculiar institution of a peculiar church, and have no power except when attacked. This their history proves, and strikingly in the United States, where their influence is actually a nonentity, but may, by violent crusades against them, be rendered a reality. Their founder saw this, and is said to have expressed the wish that his order might never want active enemies.