“O do you Remember ? " To Ida. “ When shall we come to that delightful day, When each can say to each, Dost thou remember?'”- Lytton. vers SO SW O do you remember the days that are gone, The woodlands and valleys, the powers so sweet ; The hills that we roam'd, and how happy we were, And how life in its newness to us seem'd complete ? Methought that our life in its course would not change ; Methought that our happiness never would die ; My heart then rejoiced in the life that I led O was there a being more happy than I ? The valley re-echoes the song of the brook, The wild vine still clings to the fir trees above; Wild lilies and creepers bloom yet in the wood, Where often we heard the sweet voice of the dove. The coo of the turtle, the tapering firs, The murmuring brook where so often we met ; The wild grapes and roses, the moss-cover'd stones, Still do you remember them ?-Can you forget ? G. D. L. ROBERTSON. A Village Festa. Hic dies anno redeunte festus. Hor. Od. III. viii. 9. The modern Roman loves the principle of anniversaries quite as much as his ancestors. In fact, who does not love anniversaries ? Who has not a birthday? Who does not look forward to Christmas, which proverbially comes but once a year? At Monte Porzio, the great day looked forward to is the feast of St. Antoninus, Sept. 2nd. St. Antoninus is to Porzio what St. George is to England, and just as knights of old went into battle with the cry, “ For St. George and Merry England,” so there is many a contadino here who would willingly take up arms for the honour of St. Antoninus and Porzio. For, though it be but a small village, it is no less important in its own eyes than is the high and mighty Britannia. Has it not a Syndic and Town Councillors, and one Policeman with SP.Q P. (Senatus Populusque Portianus) embroidered on his cap? And does not Sept. 2nd at Porzio utterly cast into the shade the festivities of San Rocco at Monte Compatri over the way? And as for Colonna can it be even mentioned in the same breath? Welcome then to St. Antoninus' Day! But before I guide my readers through the festivities, it would be well perhaps to understand a little better the how, why and wherefore of things. It will, for instance, seem strange to some folks to see amusement and religion so closely mixed up together as to seem to have been confounded, and some things even which are meant to be entirely religious will appear hardly to bear that character in the eyes of those whose experience has been narrowed to their own way of thinking. Now it is not part of my plan to play the advocate. I am only an historian or guide. But there are guides and guides. I aspire to give an intelligent account of things, and therefore am obliged to speak from the point of view of those about whom I am writing. No man's actions are reasonable, if judged from another man's point of view, and therefore I must write differently about the amusement of an Italian village from what I should do if describing a Wesleyan tea-meeting or a Church bazaar. Accordingly, without asking any one to agree with me, I merely ask my readers to stand hypothetically at my point of view, and to give some human sympathy to my subject, even where they cannot give cordial approval. Some, perhaps, may be disposed to scout the whole form of religion here pourtrayed, as superstition ; so, also, there are people in the world who are for putting down all Wesleyanism as fanaticism ; others, all Anglicanism as formality; and others again, all faith whatsoever as folly. I only hope that none such may read these pages, for they will find nothing therein to please them. One of this class was at Naples last year for the Assumption ; he was a correspondent of the Times. He found the whole city en fête. Dear me! how he grumbled in the majestic columns of the giant daily paper, and talked about “ streets encumbered with arches and fireworks, often interfering with the free passage of less excited people.” Indeed! This is just what we might imagine a French Red Republican muttering in the streets of London, on one of those rare occasions when triumphal arches crown the way and enthusiastic crowds “impede the progress ” of all except the Royal Lady, Victoria, whom it is the people's loyal delight to honour. Mind, it was mid August, the height of summer, when perhaps there were not more than twenty English people in the town, nineteen of whoin, depend upon it, were thoroughly enjoying the festa, leaving the Times correspondent as the only less-excited and much-impeded individual in the hundred thousand,-a blot on the general joyousness,-a dog in the manger, who could not enjoy himself, and grudged the enjoyment of others : thank goodness we have no correspondents at Porzio. The fact is, there are several theories as to the mutual relations of religion and enjoyment. Some, like the Puritans, impressed with the paramount importance of religion, and supposing it to be incompatible with fun and frolic, banished the latter and assumed on all occasions that grave and sober exterior deportment associated with their name. Others, while not slighting religion, felt that amusement was so deeply imbedded in human nature as to be a necessity ; accordingly, not knowing how to make the two co-exist, they effected a compromise and resolved to allow each to have its turn in independent alternation. Others again think—and this is the theory prevalent in Catholic countries, and its favourite home was once in “ Merry England," as the keeping of Christmas still testifies,—that Nature and Grace, as proceeding from the same Author and residing in the same subject, are neither mutually independent nor mutually exclusive, but should be harmoniously blended : when it is time to work, they work religiously; when it is time to play, they play religiously. And since, with this last class, outward manifestation always accompanies the inward act of religion, it must not be surprising if the somewhat frivolous signs of jollity seem inextricably intermingled with the august symbols of Catholicism. It is open to all to differ from this class, but it is not open to any one to judge them from other points of view than their own. Having premised thus far, I subjoin a literal translation of the programme, utterly despairing, however, of fairly represeating the polished grandiloquence of the original, the author of which I strongly suspect to be our friend Don Agosto, the curate of Porzio, who has been guilty of writing, and still more guilty of publishing, a poem in the same style on the subject of the feast. Nothing can exceed the delicacy with which he excludes all allusion to the fact that Porzio is only a village, using words which can apply with delightful ambiguity to large cities or countries as well; thus, e.g., abitato, an inhabited place, large or small : compatriota, either fellow-countrymen or fellow-villager, &c. PROGRAMME OF THE Festival. The recurrence of the Renowned Protector, St. Antoninus, Martyr, shall be solemnized as follows : Sept. ist. The vigil of the feast shall be hailed with signs of jubilant exultation. At 5 p.m. after First Vespers, a well organized penitential procession shall proceed from the Parish Church to the Oratory of the Saint, situated in the neighbourhood of the Town (abitato). At 8 p.m. Elevation of an Ærostatic Globe. Sept 2nd. The Feast. Repeated salvoes of artillery shall announce the dawn of the auspicious day. At 10 a.m. in the aforesaid Church elegantly decorated, shall be |