our days of thanksgiving, our Ramadans, and fasts, for a deliverance from the artillery of Pestilence and Plague, if we sanction in the far quarters of the globe, deeds that brand a nation with the name of Cain. But let us not anticipate the inquiry.

We cannot, however, abstain from expressing our disgust at the massacre, necessary or unnecessary, being celebrated by a dinner!—an entertainment to Sir James Brooke. At this he refuted, by a bare and angry statement, that which was stated by a Singapore paper-viz., that the slaughtered men were not pirates. He called the writer in the paper “ a greedy informer!" Greedy of what? we ask. Was it the truth? Was the Singapore writer a dealer in antimony, or diamonds? We remember that neither Sir James Brooke's statements nor his logic were convincing to us at the time. "Is a pirate less a pirate," he said, alluding to their peaceful avocation, "because he sells crumpets?" He then stated that an old man, said to be 'barbarously massacred," was a young man, "who fought

to the last," and was returning from a hunting expedition at Sassung. Were his youth and his hunting reasons for killing him? Sir James Brooke spoke of Cuba as a precedent for severities. That was an unlucky allusion. Shall we imitate the cruelties of the Spaniard? He then wound up with a great deal about "honour, religion, and humanity," and spoke even of the "humanity" of the expedition we have described. What! Sir James, humanity in paddlewheels, grape-shot, canister or Congreve-rockets, or in the heart of the man who can speak with pride and satisfaction of those atrocities? There was one thing in the account of this business which particularly revolted us. One fairhaired child was kept alive to be handed over to the mis

sionaries a little waif of morbid charity, a lamb of atonement for a sea of blood, a sop to the Cerberus of Retribution. There is something awful in the hypocritical mercy which saved one child amid so many-the heir of the slaughter of a whole race to be educated by the priests of the destroyers.

In conclusion, we say that, looking back upon these things, and having heard some other allusions to Borneo, we are glad that Parliament is about to afford to Sir James Brooke a full opportunity to vindicate his mercy, his justice, and his character.

FATHER GAVAZZI.

ORATION VII.

THE Father has this time made a noble onslaught upon monasteries and nunneries-that male and female incarceration which makes it unnatural to be virtuous, and criminal to exist, except in a state of mental and physical blight. Whether Jepthah's daughter were condemned to the seclusion of maidenly retirement, or actually butchered by her exemplary parent, we know not; but we consider that the difference amounts to about the same thing as that which exists between transportation and hanging. Some, if they knew all about it, would prefer the latter. The Father somewhat pungently alluded to the case of Jane Wilbred, and our new enactment for the protection of workhouse apprentices. "But what," he said, "are the bodily tortures inflicted by the Advocate Sloane, compared with the excruciating pangs of a refined and sensitive being, doomed to a

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long agony of blasted feelings and inward desolation?" We print, in another part, an account of a nun, taken from some foreign paper, which describes her making her nightly exit from her hideous imprisonment to walk with her lover— through a sewer! We should not, probably, give this little historiette, did it not exemplify the horrid constraint which makes the foulest means of escape a blessing, even though that escape be but momentary.

We are told that Father Gavazzi causes more apprehension at Rome than all the Protestant Bishops, or, indeed, the whole English Government. Well he may! He appears like the antitype of John the Baptist, preaching regeneration in the moral wilderness of modern civilization. His earnestness stands out in bold relief against surrounding falseness and frivolity. They call him a renegade, because he holds fast by the garment of Christ, from whom they have apostatized-not he. Let Father Gavazzi beware of the steel and cord, and the poisoned cup. We warn him, that thousands would consider it a deed worthy of their Church, if not of Heaven, to destroy him. The Father is well aware of all the abominations of monastic life. His memory is wonderful; his knowledge of history great. He is, what is vulgarly termed, well up on the subject.

The Papal party are right in their apprehensions. The denunciations of Father Gavazzi are worth all the disputations, arguments, and ecclesiastical bitterness in the world. They are fearfully genuine. They alone can counteract the insidious progress of the disease in this country, fostered by the sickly fantasies of our women, the tame, but mischievous imbecility of pragmatic minds, the lying liberality of selfishness, and the supine greediness of our own Church. For English women who become Papists, we have no patience

with them. They should be whipped with rosaries. They go over to Rome like sick monkeys, or, as in a past age, they kept ugly china and black servants, and patronized singers, who, at any rate, in one respect, were fitted to become monks. But there are men here who are no better-English lords and gentlemen, (was there no tame confessor formerly in their families, purring about the closets and corridors?) who have stooped to the lowest prostration of the human intellect and their own dignity-men who would shame any old Catholic réligieuse who believes in the blessed toe-nail of St. Peter, or would adore a louse from the hairy shirt of St. Anthony.

England should reject these emasculated beings from her bosom, and send them to be flunkeys to the Papal filth at Rome, which Frenchmen cram down the throats of an indignant people. Others there are, traitors and hypocrites, as well as mere fools, for whom contempt finds no words. These beings force their nauseous presence and lying doctrines upon us, and we are told that it is liberal to succumb. To be liberal is to endure tyranny! He who lets the Pope ride rough-shod over England and insult our Queen is liberal. America is—we say it with manly sorrow-the only liberal country now extant in the world. Let the Pope create his Cardinals there, with territorial titles, if he dare. But we should think his advisers were too politic for this.

FEBRUARY 26TH, 1851.

PRINTED BY PETTER, DUFF, AND CO. CRANE COURT, FLEET STREET.