The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . who guar-anteed the Catholic establishment inCorsica and in Canadaâwho gave herconstituttion to Catholic Hanover;England who one would imagine tookout a roving commission from Quoran-totti in search of Catholic grievancesto redress, and of Catholic princes torestore, cannot trust the Catholic athome who spends his blood and treas-ure in her service. The lapse of a hundred years hasworked little improvement in thegreat confusion, which excited theamazement of Charles Phillips and theIrish Catholics of his

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The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . who guar-anteed the Catholic establishment inCorsica and in Canadaâwho gave herconstituttion to Catholic Hanover;England who one would imagine tookout a roving commission from Quoran-totti in search of Catholic grievancesto redress, and of Catholic princes torestore, cannot trust the Catholic athome who spends his blood and treas-ure in her service. The lapse of a hundred years hasworked little improvement in thegreat confusion, which excited theamazement of Charles Phillips and theIrish Catholics of his day. Englandstill continues to act in Europe as theguardian of Catholic royalty that seemgto have outlived its usefulness. Theprinciple of church and state displaysevery sympton of steady decay. Theform in which it survives in LowerCanada was the free bestowal of Eng-land on the French-Canadian people, and Irishmen are not called upon tocriticise it any more than they dothe other form in which the Englishpeople themselves maintain it. Ire-lands national issue is in no way in-volved.. THE SECRET DRAWER BY CHRISTIAN LYS THEEE was no vehicle of any kindâ¢*â in the station yard, and theporter explained that people alwaysordered beforehand from the Bed Lionin the village. I can get a cab in a few minutes, sir. Where is it to go to? To the Old Manor, Professor Mat-tinsons. Perhaps I had better waita little while, he may send a carriagefor me. He wont do that, the porter an-swered, he has got nothing to send.Hes a bit near, and that rich, theysay, he dont know what hes worth. His opinion did not interest me, andI let him go for the cab, which provedto be an ancient affair with a horseand driver to match. We were a longtime covering the four miles of coun-try road which lay between the sta-tion and my destination, and theNovember day was drawing to a closewhen we suddenly stopped by theroadside. What is it, driver? That theres the entrance to theOld Manor, he answered, pointingwith