"Yes, yes, we will save her!" said the king, roused to unwonted

energy.

For any one who could have read the bottom of their hearts it was a strange and curious position that of these three men, of such different rank, yet animated for the time being by the same thought, the same fears, the same love-these three men brought together by one idea, allied by one name, and whom one word more might have disunited and thrown into mutual enmity.

But when Alliaga was urged to name the guilty he began to reflect that it was not only the fathers Jerome and Escobar who had recom→ mended the crime, but that it was the Countess d'Altamira who had undertaken to commit it. The countess was the aunt of Fernando and of Carmen. To accuse her was to deliver up to shame and dishonour the family to which he Alliaga owed every thing!

"Sire," he said, after a few moments' reflection, "and you, Fernando, you will not, I am sure, doubt my words. I know those who have laid this conspiracy, but I dare not name them."

"How then shall we protect the duchess ?" exclaimed the king and Fernando at the same time.

"I-I alone, sire!" exclaimed Piquillo. "If you will permit it I will swear to save her or to die."

The king was delighted. He had learnt from Fernando the relationship that existed between Alliaga and the duchess, and he felt that all that was necessary was to insure Alliaga's not being removed from the palace. Fernando ventured to suggest that the situation of chaplain to the queen was vacant, but the king, although pleased with the suggestion, intimated that the appointment was the gift of the Grand Inquisitor and of the Duke of Lerma, and that the latter had promised it to a nominee of the Duke of Uzeda's.

"If that is all," said the young monk, "I think I can obtain it." The king and Don Fernando looked at one another surprised.

"If that is the case," said Philip, "you had better set to work immediately, for do you see that grave personage coming towards us? It is the duke himself."

The duke was indeed approaching at a slow pace, endeavouring to make out who were the two persons enjoying so intimate a conversation with the king. He soon recognised Fernando, but with regard to the young monk he was completely at fault.

"My dear duke," said the king, taking a step or two towards him, "here is a young monk who has a request to make to you, and we strongly recommend his suit."

Thus saying he saluted the duke and continued his walk with Fernando. The duke remained transfixed to the spot, contemplating Alliaga with an anxious and severe look.

"You want a place, I suppose?" he at length said.

"Yes, monsenor."

"Then you cannot have one. They are all given away."

"Then, monsenor, I should ask permission to render you an immense service."

"You! Who are you?" inquired the duke, much surprised.

"The brother Luis Alliaga.'

66

Piquillo Alliaga!" exclaimed the duke, as he examined him again

from head to foot. "It is you who asked an audience of me to make important revelations. Well, did not Calderon receive you ?”

"No; what I had to communicate was for your own ears. I neither saw Calderon nor spoke to him."

"But you have communicated your revelations to the king?” said the minister, spitefully.

"To no one, monsenor, they concern only yourself."

The minister softened visibly; a smile of good-humour stole over his threatening brow, and making signs to Piquillo to walk by his side, they continued to converse as they walked. Piquillo began by exposing to the minister the conspiracy that had been hatching against him for so long a time. To his surprise, however, when he mentioned his own son, the Duke of Uzeda, as one of the conspirators, the minister did not express either horror or astonishment.

"I have always expected it," he said, for a moment placing his hand to his brow. "Well, I thank you for your information, I will see after t; farewell. By the bye, what place was it you were asking for ?" "No matter, monsenor, you told me that they were all filled.” "Yes, but what you have told me may render several vacant.” "I only want one; it is that of chaplain to the queen."

"Chaplain to the queen!" echoed the minister, "you ask for one of the first places at court. It requires to have rendered services to obtain it. Besides, it is an appointment that depends upon the Grand Inquisitor. You are of his order, I see, but I imagine since a very brief time."

"Since this morning only. But I have not finished, monsenor." "What! is it not enough what you have already told me ?"

"That is of slight importance, monsenor, to what has yet to follow. It concerns the safety of Spain."

"Speak, then," said the minister.

And Alliaga unfolded to the astonished minister all the designs of Henry IV.-designs which he had not the slightest idea of. An incapability and improvidence that would be perfectly incomprehensible if history did not attest the fact, that at the time when Henry was already prepared to enter into campaign, there was not a regiment to defend the frontier, nor a single ship in commission.

The duke grew pale as he listened to the young monk's disclosures. It was only with a trembling voice that he at length inquired where he obtained his information.

"That, monsenor, is the only thing," replied Alliaga, "that I cannot tell you. Of the exactitude of the facts you can assure yourself."

It is what I shall do. You have not spoken concerning these matters to his majesty?"

"Not a word, monsenor. I have already told you so.

"Then will you promise me to observe the same silence to the rest of the world."

"I swear it."

"Then you shall be chaplain to the queen, whoever your competitors may be. I had this very morning signed the commission. Here it is!" And the minister drew the paper from his pocket, crumpled it, and tore it into pieces.

TO THE SOVEREIGN PONTIFF, PIUS IX.

ON THE CEREMONY OF HIS TAKING POSSESSION OF THE KEYS OF THE CITY OF ROME, HIS PATRIOTIC AMNESTY, AND ON HIS POLITICAL AND SOCIAL REFORMS.*

BY THOMAS ROSCOE, ESQ.

"Spirto gentil, che quelle membra reggi."-PETRARCH.

"WAKE, Rome! awake from ages' slave-bound sleep,
Thy spirit's glory triumph o'er thy tomb!

Thy genius lives, lives, breathes in every vein!
Spurn the dire spells of that dread two-fold doom,
Thy bitter dower, and proudly scorn to weep,
Proving the high heart of thy antique reign!"
In accents bland thus spoke the lord of men:
True lord by heaven's pure will and sway of love
In mortal weeds his glorious mission blending,
Earth's peace and joy, justice and truth defending
'Mid patriot plaudits caught by saints above.
Hail advent blest! the long-wish'd dove
With olive-branch on the world's waters drear,
The tidings glad hoped thro' far time's career.

Valour with courtesy in lowly guise,

The pilgrim's heart at his great master's shrine,
Wisdom to rule, and strength of soul to do
His high behests who gave that soul to shine-
Reproach an age of infamy and lies.

Fearless affront the fatef the generous few

The pope has kept his word with his people. The grand ceremony of the "possesso" was celebrated at Rome on the 8th inst. This ceremony, the origin of which ascends to the early time of the sovereignty of the Pontiffs over the city of Rome, reminded the Romans of their former municipal franchises, which are more political than religious. Anxious to justify the hopes held out at his elevation to the throne, the Holy Father on "that great" day nominated three committees, composed of united prelates and laymen, including the most distinguished magistrates and lawyers in the country, charged with the reform of the code of criminal and civil jurisprudence. Two of them are composed of Roman laymen; men possessing great influence by their fortune and talent; while the reformatory measures already promulgated were received with the utmost enthusiasm by the population which congregated at the foot of the capital, under the triumphal arch of the forum, along the ruins of the Colisium, and along all the streets and squares through which the cortége of the Sovereign Pontiff was to pass. He was everywhere met by the loudest acclamations. On reaching the gate of St. John of Lateran, the oldest church in Rome, the sovereign was presented by the senator with the keys of the city, the symbol of taking possession of the imperial power. Entering the lodge of St. John's, he bestowed his benediction on the people, who received it with the utmost piety and enthusiasm. Various reports circulated in the city added to the universal joy. The Pontiff had just granted to the inhabitants of Bologna an organisation of the civic guard for the repression of highway robberies. M. Marini, also Civil Governor of Rome, had been reprimanded for permitting the continuance of domiciliary visits.-Deario di Roma.

† Letters recently received from Rome confirm the previous accounts of the serious difficulties which impede the policy of the new Pontiff. The whole weight of government would seem to depend almost upon his single head. The entire conclave of cardinals are, to a man, opposed to him, with the exception of two, the secre

Rejoice to meet; the crimes of that foul crew
Whose demon-league still desolates the earth
And calls it order-war to peace like thine,
On truth and virtue built-whose holier sign
Blanches the despot's cheek! Since thine the crown
Of crowns most reverenc'd, and the triple Gem,
Earth's loftiest state, stretch forth its iod to them;
Their anarch pride pull down,

Twist fast thy hand in their ensanguin'd hair,
Italia, rouse from her wolf-luxury's lair!

Their heathen idols of misrule yet reign

Assail Heaven's kingdom in their giant-wrath,

And perjur'd kings-the Hunn, Frank, Russ, still vie
Trampling free nations in their pitiless path,

While Mammon's hordes Christ's spotless temples stain,
And martyr'd faith appeals with love's last sigh-

Or seeks, sad refuge, at thy feet to die.

"Tis Woman's wrongs, and must Heaven's vengeance sleep

Its Legate thou-Rome's head-obey'd-adored?

No, loose the terrors of the Omnipotent word

Shatter their proud strength with Truth's thunders deep!
So shall Mars' people cease to weep-

Challenge their old renown-at thy behest

Rise and assert thy sovereign mandates blest.

Rome's spectral walls still awe their trembling hearts,
Teaching stern lessons kings most need to know,
Her dark past haunts them in their palmiest pride,
Shadows of tombs where Atlas-heads lie low,
That bore the world-Briarean hands, high parts,
Whose fame's wings spread their puny acts deride,
Take thou no heed of them, for at thy side

tary and another. The former, Gizzi, tendered his resignation only the other day, saying, that he had laboriously devised, by direction of the Holy Pontiff, what he considered to be salutary measures, but which, on producing them to the council, were subjected to ridicule by the cardinalic junta, without a single argument against them, or reasons alleged for declining to take them into consideration. His holiness, however, refused the proffered resignation, and said he could do without the cardinals. He accordingly established a council of state of his own, without including a single cardinal. In the Deario di Roma are gazetted the names of the new council, and their proposed functions. Cardinal della Geuza is said to be the cardinal who is under arrest, if not actually in the castle of St. Angelo; while at Pesaro, instead of circulating a document ordered by government, he published a seditious paper of his own, which reflected on the pope and his government; hence this decisive step. Lambruschini is also said to have been detected in a treasonable correspondence. A rumour was current that his holiness, previous to taking solemn possession of the papacy on the 9th of November, intends to preach from the pulpit of St. John Lateran eight consecutive days-a course of lectures only to be historically parallelled by the discourses of Savnuorola, in the days of Florentine freedom. A letter in the German Allgemeine Zeitung says, "I can state to you, from a creditable private source from Rome, that the life of the pope is not safe. His dinner is served at eleven o'clock, and remains till one till it is cold; it is then examined by a chemist, and warmed on the dinner-table by a spirit-lamp. His cup of chocolate for breakfast is prepared by the attendant in his immediate presence. When he goes to mass he takes the host, the wine, and the water with him. At a convent where he lately attended to administer the sacrament, he neither performed the ceremony nor took the usual refreshments. Such is the life of Pius IX., the greatest benefactor of the Roman States."

Battles a champion, bright with victories won,
On where He leads, nor check thy pious speed !
Arm'd with his might show thy true Latian breed,
And glad the spirits of Rome's heroes gone.
When thy great task is done,

And from her ashes Freedom's Phoenix springs,
Rome's holier laws shall dictate laws to kings.

If aught of mortal worth be prized on high!
"Tis when pure deeds adorn the pride of place;-
When loftiest aims in him who rose to reign,
By virtuous strife meekly to Heaven's free grace
All good refers-bids war and discord fly,
Raising a people from the dregs that stain
The Roman race, and breaks th' oppressor's chain,
Heal the dire wounds by ages' wrongs inflamed,
Worse than ten Hannibals by vengeance fired,
When Romans proudly on the foe expired,
Not by slow centuries of soul-slavery tamed.
Now thy glad reign proclaim'd;-

Temples and palace-halls one hymn repeat,

"Free Rome"-and freed "at Heaven's high mercy-seat."

No more as erst her marbles' column'd pride

Strange arms, names, deeds pollute of barbarous foes,
Bears, wolves, and lions; eagles, serpents, trace
Their stems no more-nor to what blood allied-

Auspicious days far other lines disclose;

Thine the high task to inscribe in loftiest place;
As time it were, some brighter series grace
Her ruins' glories. Thine be freedom's age!

Peace-simpler Christian rites 'neath the bland reign
That binds Italia's patriots-not in vain!

To Thee, their Father, Friend, and Sovereign sage,
Prepared that holiest war to wage,

With those dark powers that threat their once-loved land,

And from thy lips to hear Heaven's high command.

Too rare high Fortune crowns pure soaring mind:
Foe to the good-oft to the fierce and strong
Like wanton true-true daring still she loves.
Prophetic fear points to the gathering throng
Of perils that beset the path of kind

And generous hearts, that thought of self ne'er moves.
Oh! may she once act as true friend behoves!

For ne'er to nobler prize she oped the way;
Promis'd undying fame to man-more bright
Than in the lustre of that fadeless light

Embalms thy deeds, and smooths thy path to sway-
An empire that shall ne'er decay.

Thy noblest meed-to rule with pious care,
Till none but freemen breathe Italia's air.