which he left behind requesting that they should not be made public after his decease.

On January 8, 1847, he wrote: 'The whole population of Rome, headed by the nobles, assembled on New Year's Day under the Pope's windows to salute him and ask his blessing, and I have little doubt that he may be called at this moment the most liberal and popular monarch in Europe. We have a great deal too much controversy here: it is an unhealthy atmosphere for my soul to breathe, and especially unsuitable to one that should be in hourly preparation for eternity. Oh that He who has all hearts at His disposal may raise mine daily above it, into that calm, clear, elevated region, where He is Himself seen and conversed with by faith, and where the soul may best ripen for His eternal presence and enjoyment!' The soundness of Mr. Lyte's Protestantism may be judged from the following somewhat lengthy quotation from a letter dated January 26, 1847: Some of my visitors still continue their calls-among the rest dear M., who seldom lets a day slip by without our meeting. Indeed, we are like the last roses of summer, and obliged to strengthen each other's hands a little. He goes about a good deal, as usual, to hear the sermons, and witness the ceremonies, and then comes and takes a cup of tea with me in the evenings, when we talk matters over. New converts to Romanism are so overbearing, and so indefatigable in their efforts to effect new conversions, that they are quite intolerable. They never allow anyone to be five minutes in their company without giving the conversation a controversial turn; and such an atmosphere is anything but an agreeable or a wholesome one for the soul to live in. It is not pleasant to be obliged to live continually with one's armour on and one's spear in its rest; to be obliged to watch one's words, lest you should make any admission that might be afterwards used against you, or allow your adversary to establish a position from which he may afterwards advantageously assail you. To give you an instance of this: I was introduced yesterday to Mrs. A., who, with her sisters, has conformed to Romanism, and, after a few commonplaces, she began to remark on the beauty of seeing the common people

here so devout, and the contrast it furnished to England in this respect. I questioned, however, the fact of their being, as a body, more really devout than our English poor. She observed that there might be a few devout people amongst the Dissenters, but that I had no right to take them into consideration. This point again I denied, urging that when she spoke of the Italian poor nationally, so she should speak of the English poor likewise as a body. She then asserted that the poor of the Church of England were unable to understand her Liturgy, full as it was of obsolete expressions and involved sentences a point I again questioned, saying that this diction, which she called obsolete, was the good old Saxon that still lingered in the phraseology of the peasantry, but, however, that I thought an objection to the unintelligibility of the English Liturgy came with rather a bad grace from those whose sacred services were all carried on in Latin. Oh, but, she said, the people understand the Latin of the Mass from their infancy; and had I ever remarked their devoutness when attending it? I answered that I had observed them sometimes apparently very devout; but when I came to look more closely, I found that, instead of giving any attention to the Mass that was celebrated in their presence, they had each their own little book of private devotions, on which all their thoughts and feelings seemed to be employed, to the neglect and disparagement of the holy rite which was then celebrated before them. Here was, I said, according to their views, the Great Sacrifice of Calvary renewed in their presence; here was the Lord of lords bodily appearing among them; and they, instead of being awed and absorbed by such a consideration, were occupying themselves with something else, which, however excellent it might be in itself, was a miserable and insulting intrusion when allowed to come between Him and them, between the Creator and His creatures. And this is the kind of running fight which one is obliged constantly to carry on here, not at all, in my mind, to the advancement of comfort or piety. Sometimes, indeed, we are provoked to carry the war a little into the enemy's camp. I think I said something in my last of a little skirmish we have lately had with some

of the champions here, which, indeed, is not yet closed. M. had been to hear one of Ventura's sermons, and as he built a great deal on the text, M. turned to his little Bible to look for it. It was said by Ventura to be from the third of Malachi : "Behold He cometh, the Lord, the Ruler ! and in His hand, power, kingdom, and authority." But, to M.'s surprise, he could find nothing of the kind there. On his return home he came to me, and asked me to show him the Vulgate; but, lo! there was no text like it there either. While we were at tea, as good luck would have it, Dr. Grant came in, so we referred the matter to him; but his endeavours to find the passage were as vain as our own. From him, however, we learned that the sentence occurred in the Introit for the day (the Epiphany) in the Missal, and that it was there stated to be from Malachi iii.

'But now arose a more serious question, not as to the incorrectness of Father Ventura, but of the infallible Missal itself. Had it quoted the passage incorrectly, and had it so stood for centuries, unnoticed by the Missal's commentators or its ministers ? Was the Bible so little known or referred to in the Church of Rome that an error of this kind could remain so long undiscovered and uncorrected in the most distinguished of its formularies ? The little doctor felt the importance of the point, and has been ever since endeavouring to explain the matter. His first solution was a very lame one. The Introits, he said, were not all taken from the Scripture, but many of them from the Fathers, and this, perhaps, was one of these. I begged him, however, to inform me which of the eminent Fathers there was whose name began with "Mal," and what Mal. 'iii." could possibly mean in this point of view. Finding, then, that this would not do, they referred the matter to N., I suppose as having been more recently conversant with Scripture than others among them ; and his suggestion was that the passage was taken, not from the Vulgate, but the old Italic version. However, this has, I suppose, likewise failed them; for yesterday M. received a note from Dr. G., saying that he believed the passage not to be a quotation from Scripture at all, but a “paraphrase"

of the whole chapter in question; to which M. has replied that the solution of the difficulty was by no means satisfactory, more especially as a paraphrase was generally understood to be an explanation in a fuller form, and the words in question had anything but that character about them. I contented myself with merely asking the doctor this morning, when I met him for a moment, whether this was the way in which his Church usually dealt with Scripture, giving the people her own words, and referring to them as the Word of God? I dare say we shall hear something more about the matter, as we do not intend to let it drop here. Having put such a hook in Leviathan, it would be a pity not to play him a little.'

The above letter puts the reader into secret touch with the pretensions of the Church of Rome with regard to the authority of its voice, and shows how hollow those pretensions are when once they are closely scrutinized. Though he lived for so long a time in Rome, and constantly breathed the very atmosphere of Roman Catholicism, Mr. Lyte was too alert to be ensnared, and too shrewd a student to be misled by Romish teaching.

In a letter from Rome, February 6, 1847, after speaking of different classes of visitors, he says: ‘Another considerable class here are the converts, very few of them persons of much mental power, but possessing all the zeal for which people of this class, to whatsoever sect they belong, are famous. They wear rose-coloured spectacles, through which they view all the fooleries and enormities of the Papal system, and are very anxious to transfer them from their own noses to those of other people.'

In a letter dated February 16, 1847, he says: 'The more I am acquainted with the religion of this land, the more unreal do I think it, and the more do I feel it to consist in mere externals. With the exception of the new English converts, who have been brought up in a different school, and a few select others, I cannot help feeling that I am living among actors.'

He also informs us that a number of English clergymen

who had gone over to Rome speedily met with many disappointments, and were very ill-satisfied with what they found in the Romish Church. Though Mr. Lyte himself became somewhat 'High Church,' he never in the least departed from the essential principles of Protestantism. It was only natural that the Romish system should interest him greatly, and form a large part of the conversational topics that arose amongst his circle of friends in the ancient city; but there was a wide range of subjects ever before his mind in which he was greatly interested, and on which he could impart much information. But besides the joys which intellectual fellowship with his friends afforded, the valuable libraries of Rome were to him the source of much pleasure.

In the following month (March, 1847) he finished his poem entitled The Poet's Plea.' It is one of the most charming poems he ever wrote. The versatility of his mind and the range of his imaginations are here shown, perhaps, to better advantage than in any other of his efforts. One here finds his exalted conception of the poet's calling, and how highly he prized the sacred gifts with which God had endowed him.

But although he had, during the winter, enjoyed much social fellowship, and used his pen considerably, yet at times his weakness was very extreme. He seldom spoke of it, however, and bore up in such a remarkable manner as to show how very superior the mind that is inspired by truth and God can be over matter. But oh, how his soul yearned for the springtime! Something of his experience bursts forth in his poem on that delightful season of the year. He was a poet who, in a very special manner, incorporated much of his personal experience in his poems.

With the return of spring he resolved to return home, and on his arrival at Berry Head he was in a state of great exhaustion. His soul was inspired with the prospect of once more taking his part in the social circle of his much-loved home. The old scenes had much charm for him, and refreshed his spirit; but he gazed upon the glorious scenery of Torbay with the knowledge that he could not live long to enjoy it. With