Pontifical Rings.

Evening Post, Issue 131, 11 July 1865, Page 2

Pontifical Rings.

-in answer to the iuquiries of " A* A.," I have to state that it has long been customary in this country for Catholics to kneel for a blessing from their bishops ; but the custom of kissing the bishop's ring, when kneeling before him for ft blessing, is not so common in England as on the Continent. Canons do not kneel, except to the Pope ; to all other bishops they onlybow wl en they receive the blessing, or kiss the pontifical ring. As to the affinity between kissing a bishop's ring and kissing the Pope'a slipper, both are marks oE respect and veneration, the latter being more profound, as the dignity of the Supreme Pontiff is so much greater.— Notes and Queries. With what a proud and exciting feeling an Englishman ought to enter London, after a prolonged absence in other countries t The public buildings are few, and for the most part menu ; the monuments of antiquity not comparable to those which the pettiest town in Italy can boast of ; the palaces are sad rubbish ; the houses of our peers and princes are shabby and shapeless heaps of bricks But what of this ? the spirit of London is in her thoroughfares— her population I What wealth— what cleanliness— what order— what animation ! How majestic, and yes how vivid, is the life that runs through htr myriad veins 1 How as the lamps blaze upon you at night, and straet after street glides by your wheels, each so regular in its symmetry* so equal in its civilization — how impressively do you feel that you are in the metropolis of a free people, with healthful institutions and exulting still in the undecayed energies cf national youth and vigour. — Bulwer. Consciousness op Immortautt.— " No nation has been found without such a belief,'* said Coleridge ; "children feel the impression almost before you can say they have been taught, and nature is never deceived in her instincts ; birds never err in building their nests ; animals in a wild state always seek their proper food j and man, if he throws

away this conviction, is like a domesticated animal that grows wanton, and eats dirt by way of change. The only time I ever saw Lord Byron, he pointed to a man in a state of brutal intoxication, and asked if I thought that a proof of an immortal nature ? ' Your inquiry, my lord, is,' I answered •, and so it was ; it was the natural instinct shrinking with abhorunce from the degradation of the soul."