trasting their religious knowledge with that of the English and
Americans; in the former one of which countries there are seven or eight
millions of pagans, and in the later so many thousands who follow such
impostors as Miller, Smith, spiritual rappers, Transcendentalists,
Fourierites, and other impostors notorious for their crimes.

"The reverend gentleman forgets," said he, "that Ireland was once, and
for ages, the most enlightened country on earth, and deserved to be
called "the Island of Saints;" and that whatever of ignorance, poverty,
and crime--which, thank God, is little--she is afflicted with, was
inherited by her from the curse introduced into her by the upas tree of
Protestantism. Ah, sir, the eulogy of England comes with a bad grace
from the lips of a son of America, which she oppressed, and which, but
for Catholic arms, might be now, instead of a great republic, a
badly-ruled province of Protestant England. Study history, sir; study
history; and you will soon think better of Ireland and Catholicity, and
less of England and her persecuting Protestantism." And with that he
retired.

The remaining part of our tale is soon told. Paul O'Clery, from being a
good priest, became, in addition, a great man; his virtues, learning,
and genius soon attracted the notice of the princes of God's church. He
was consecrated bishop, "_in partibus infidelium_," and he is now a
pillar of God's church, and an ornament in his sanctuary, as archbishop
in one of the great cities of British India, in Asia. Behold, my young
readers, how the church opens the gates of her treasures, and encourages
the promotion of the humblest of her children. Virtue and genius are the
only titles to nobility which she regards. Every office in her gift (and
she has stations too high for angels) is open to the humblest aspirant
to perfection. How many scores of young men might be now shining lamps
in God's sanctuary, instead of being degraded to the level of the
drudges of the earth and the slaves of the world, if they only resisted
the glittering bait of temptation at first, and took as their model Paul
O'Clery, the orphan boy!

What became of Aloysia, do you wish to know? She joined her sister
Bridget in the nunnery, and after atoning by her tears and repentance
for the _material_ heresy of her youth, she lately fell a victim to
fever, contracted by her in caring for the poor negro slaves of New
Orleans. She preferred to die a saint than live a pri