Monthly Review of Literature. 319 



church. He enters upon his sacred calling, which by sundry acts he dis- 

 graces, and is finally converted to Catholicism. He is convinced of his 

 errors after having been for a short time behind the scenes of the farce of 

 papistry, and returns to the bosom of the episcopal church. A love story of 

 course is attached to the more important incidents [of the tale, and some 

 parts of the narrative are stuffed full of horrible crimes and narrow escapes. 

 The hero but just slips through the hands of the Inquisition is made aware 

 of poisonings and assassinations through the medium of the confessional, 

 and is himself as complete a scoundrel as one could well imagine. The story 

 is well enough told, and some of the descriptions of scenery are sufficiently 

 vivid, but the religious disquisitions are, we think, of too subtle a nature to 

 to be intelligible by those who have not especially devoted themselves to the 

 tudy of such topics. We give a few extracts as specimens of the style : 



"The subterranean chapel was not now, as I had before seen it, partially 

 illuminated by the flickering flame of a single torch, but blazing with many 

 lighted tapers ; there were six or eight upon the altar before the crucifix, 

 bringing forward in strong relief not only the marble figure of the Dead Saviour, 

 but that of a beautiful Magdalen \veeping at the foot of the crucifix (a figure 

 which I had not before observed), with an infinitude of rich marbles, gems, 

 and emblazonments. In the centre of the hall was a bier covered with a black 

 pall on which the beloved remains were laid out, having at the feet and head 

 many burning tapers, a small cross in silver being placed upon the breast. 



"The strong glare of these numerous lights had penetrated far into the deep 

 and dismal recesses of [this last receptacle of the household, filling up the 

 shadowy outlines I had first seen within the mournful abode, and showing 

 many old sarcophagi and mural niches, all of which had already, no doubt, 

 received one or more tenants. The air of these subterraneous chambers was 

 filled almost to suffocation with the odour of the frankincense which burned 

 before the altar in a sort of brazier. 



" Crushed forward until within one or two feet of the bier, and then came to a 

 stand, fixed to the spot as if under the influence of some horrid spell. The 

 figure which reposed on that cold bed was arrayed in the perfect costume of a 

 novice, such as she appears in the day of her espousals, with a crown of 

 roses on her veiled brow. The roses on the head of the poor corpse before me 

 looked perfectly fresh, I presume that they were as artificial as all else in 

 the complicated system to which she had been made the sacrifice ; the head 

 of the corpse was slightly elevated by a cushion ; the pale hands were brought 

 before and united on the breast ; the face was covered with white cere-cloth 

 curiously cut in figures ; the feet were concealed by the long black robe. 

 And there she lay in total stillness that fair creature, who but a short time 

 since had opened all her heart to me, and told me the tale of her disastrous 

 love, of which I was myself the miserable object a love which, under the 

 impressions I then had, I could hardly consider any thing else than adulterous ; 

 for had she not entered into the most solemn engagements, of a nature of 

 which I cannot now speak without feeling that I am speaking blasphemy ? 



" Were I to write volumes I could hardly explain all that passed in my 

 mind in that dread hour, in that dread hall : at length, as making a desperate 

 effort, I stepped near the bier and raised the covering from the face ; but all 

 that remained amid the ravages of death of what was formerly so exquisitely 

 beautiful, but faintly brought back the memory of that lovely one. There 

 were, indeed, the delicately formed lips, the lovely and pencilled eye-brow, 

 but set and fixed in death, and a forehead white as marble of Carrara. I 

 placed my hand upon the forehead ; it was hardly cold, and yet the seal of 

 death was so indelibly set on every feature, there could be no mistake ; but I 

 felt that in looking longer on those features, madness must ensue. I pressed 

 my lips upon the polished brow, and rushed as hastily from the grottoes as I 

 had entered into them." 



This is the body of his cousin, who has turned nun for love of him, when she 



